What's Done is Done
by Aislinn Rose
Summary: Sam has just turned 18 and he's learning that life's all about making choices and having to deal with the consequences. It deals with the months leading up to Sam's leaving for Stanford. Explores the potential John had for being abusive. Inspired by DOTM.
1. Chapter 1

A/N The idea for this story started knocking around inside me skull after watching Dark Side of the Moon and Dean's somewhat cryptic mention of what John after he had discovered Sam had gone missing. Now, I love John (mostly), however as I have come to accept that he may have been more abusive then most want to think him to have been.

This story is about choices and having to learn to live with the consequences of them as well as an expedition into John and the potential for abuse that has been hinted at. I had started it under the name I Can Feel it Coming in another forum, in case you've seen it there but have decided I like this title better. Ok enough rambling….on with the story.

One more thing, if you feel moved to leave a review, whether it be positive or critical, and you do, it would be most highly appreciated. Thank you.

The setting, late spring, sun gave one last warm caress over the face of the young man who sat on a battered plastic lawn chair that the landlord had placed on the balcony that ran along the front of the apartment complexes' second level. He sat with the chair tilted so it rested on its back legs with his feet propped up on the balcony's railing with the top of the chair touching the wall behind, helping to keep him from falling over. His eyes were closed and a small smile graced his lips.

He loved this time of day. The time just before twilight, when the world seemed to hold its breath and for a moment everything seemed to stop in anticipation of what was coming next. He loved the peacefulness and the way it made him feel as if the world held some hope after all.

For him, moments like these were few and far between. He had grown up in a world not to many knew of. His was a world in which late spring suns didn't give warm caresses or peace didn't offer any hope. His world was one of darkness and mostly void of hope. In his world what most would consider creatures of fairy tales and horror stories were actually creatures of reality. In his world he was called a hunter, for that was what he did; he hunted down and destroyed the creatures of other people's nightmares.

It wasn't the life he would have chosen for himself, but then again he hadn't been asked; having been thrust into this life at the age of four by the violent death of his mother. The young man had been stripped of his childhood innocence and forced to don the never ending awareness that something always lie lurking in the shadows, waiting to devour any who crossed its path.

He hadn't told anyone what he had seen that night, he couldn't. He remembered every sound, every smell and his skin crawled as the vision of his mother plastered to his baby brother's ceiling, stomach cut open, blood dripping from her as the fire consumed her and his baby brother's nursery flooded his consciousness driving the peace from his pre-twilight respite.

His nose scrunched up as the smell of her burning flesh assaulted his senses and he felt his own stomach roil as it threatened to release the contents of his supper onto the balcony where he sat. He hadn't had time that night to really digest what had happened; to fully appreciate the sight, smell and sound of the fire. Before he could, his father was standing over him shoving his brother into his arms shouting for him to run and not to look back.

The shock that set in afterward had rendered him speechless for a short time, and by the time he could talk his father was to far gone, lost in his own sorrow, that he didn't want to talk to his oldest about what had happened; so he had learn to internalize it and everything that came after.

This led to his inability to effectively communicate to those around him what he needed. He had grown up with the belief that his main purpose in life was to take care of his father and his younger brother, that his own wants and needs were secondary and of little importance. This was drilled into him day after day as he followed his father around the country, as a foot soldier in his dad's own private war against anything and everything that held even the smallest bit of evil. His father's voice, incessantly barking, in his head reminding him to, 'Look after Sammy. Keep Sammy safe,' and the punishments that would follow if he failed on any level.

The door to the apartment he shared with his dad and brother, slammed shut rousing him from his recollections. He slowly opened his green eyes. He pulled his feet from the railing and sat the chair back on all four of its legs. Sighing he looked at his brother, wondering what this latest bit of drama was all about.

Sam stood by the door his arms crossed over his chest. His mouth pinched as if he had sucked on a lemon, his brows pulled down and his nostrils flared; he was really pissed off. 'Oh this isn't good,' the older of the two thought.

"Of all the most pig headed, stupid, idiotic….," Sam mumbled, "I swear I am so leaving here as soon as I can. Ugh, I can't take him anymore." Sam paused when he noticed he wasn't alone. Looking at his brother, his pout deepened and his voice went from sounding strong with righteous indignation to high pitched and whiney. "You know what he's doing now? Do you? You won't believe this. I swear you won't."

Sam paused for dramatic effect then huffed out, "He cancelled my trip to the beach with the rest of the graduating class. He even told me that I couldn't go to the Prom. The Prom, Dean! I asked Allison to go with me, you know that girl I have been interested in ever since we moved here, that Allison. Well, I asked and she said yes. And, well Mr. Killjoy in there goes and tells me that I can't go because he has lined up a hunt for that night."

Sam kicked the side of the railing then spun around and leant up against it, his hazel eyes blazing, "That man is impossible. He doesn't need me on this hunt, he has you. Why is it so hard for him to understand that I don't want to do this? Why can't he accept that I have other plans for my life? I mean this is fine for you. You enjoy it, hell you're good at it, but me, I hate it. I want out. Just last year we almost lost you for good. I'm tired of hunts going wrong and the never ending fear of having to watch someone I care about die, or even dying myself. This is his war. NOT MINE! He never asked if I wanted to ride along, he just dragged me. Well he can't make me stay. I won't. By this time next year I won't have to worry about him anymore."

Dean waited patiently as he let his little brother ride out his tirade, he knew it wouldn't do any good to try and talk to him while he was so riled up. When he felt that Sam had vented enough he spoke to him in a calm and low voice, "Sam, you know how he is. He sets his mind, it stays set. He says he needs you, he needs you. Did you even ask him what the hunt is? Did you ask him why he needed you? Did you try to understand where he was coming from," Dean folded his arms across his chest, tilted his head and gave Sam a crooked grin, "Or, did you just go off on him without giving him a chance?"

"Figures, you'd take his side. You're just like him you know. You both have your heads shoved so far up your….." Sam huffed out before he was cut off.

"I wouldn't finish that if I were you," Dean warned. He rubbed his temples; he felt a headache coming on. "I know you think that he's a hard nosed son of a bitch, and guess what; I agree. But, c'mon Sammy be fair, it's not like he wanted this either," Dean's voice got softer and took on a far away feel, "You don't know what that night was like. You don't remember how it was before. It hasn't been easy for him, you know. He has had to fight to keep us together. He constantly skates on the edge and he's terrified that he'll go over and that he won't be here to protect us."

Sam gave a humorless laugh, "It hasn't been easy for him? What about us? Dean, we've spent our lives moving from one rat infested sh!t hole to the next. We were pulled out of school so much that you just dropped out and he let you. He didn't even care enough to make you finish school. Nope, he got what he wanted from you. He got your undivided attention and focus on this crusade of his. Besides, how would I know? I was six months old and it's not like either of you has ever sat down and really told me about it. And, it's not like he really cares. Who's here to protect us from him? Huh, Dean? Who protects us from him?"

Dean fixed Sam with a hard stare. He knew what he was talking about but he didn't want to think about it. Shaking his head he spoke once again, "Alright Sam let me see what I can do. I'm not going to make you any promises, but I'll try. I heard Caleb was in the area, maybe I can get dad to see if he can help out that night. Why don't you take a walk over to the convenient store just down the street? Get a soda or something. You know cool off before you go back in. Give me some time to talk to him."

"Thanks, Dean," Sam said then headed to the stairs that lead from the second level of the apartment building down to it's parking lot.

Dean watched Sam as he headed out of the apartment's parking lot and towards the little store. "You're welcome," he said out loud to himself, "anything to get you out of this life little brother." Straightening his shoulders he placed his hand on the doorknob of the tiny apartment. 'Well here goes nothing,' he thought. 'I hope dad's not to pissed off,' his body gave an involuntary shudder at the thought of what would happen if he was.

John stood in stunned silence as his youngest stormed out of the apartment he shared with both his boys. He understood why Sam was upset and hell he couldn't blame him, but that kind of behavior was inexcusable. He had thought about chasing right after his youngest, but at the last second decided not to. He realized that he was angry enough to do something they both would regret later. Besides, Dean was right outside the door and he would talk some sense into his brother; he always did.

John sat on the couch that had been positioned along the back wall of the main living room in the latest in the collection of run down apartments his little family had occupied in the eighteen years since his precious Mary had been taken from him. He took a long drink from the bottle of whiskey he had been drinking from for the better of that day. His eyes burned with unbidden tears. Mary had been his world, his rock. She had been the support he needed to be the kind of father his son's would need. Under her careful guidance and constant love he had no doubt that he would have been the contender for father of the year award for the rest of his life.

But, she was gone; his support had been lost. Now he knew the truth about what was out there and had discovered that his boys, especially his youngest, were marked for something and that something wasn't good. The more he learned, the more his blood ran cold; the more he feared. Had he made mistakes in their upbringing? Of course he had. Were there things he would have done differently? Of course there were; if there had been any possible way to do so.

Sure, he would have preferred to have his boys grow up in the perfect white picket fence, Leave it to Beaver kind of way; you know with the mom who stayed at home and the dad who worked. The kind of life where their biggest worry was if they were going to get to ball practice on time, or what kind of pizza should the team have after they won the championship game. But, that life was taken away from them the same night their mother was.

He had learned too much about what was really out there and had made it his mission in life to track down the monster that had ripped his family apart and end it before it could do that another family. He decided that along the way he would take out any other evil son of a bitch that he crossed paths with. He felt a calling and he wasn't going to ignore it. He couldn't turn his back on the truth, he had to face it.

John had thought about giving his boys to some family friends to raise but he couldn't bare the thought of losing them as well. He felt guilty at times that he had raised them the way he had, but he believed deep down there wasn't any other way. He knew beyond a shadow of doubt that his boys weren't safe anywhere else but with him. He had to train them, get them ready. He felt it, knew it, something was after his boys and it would have to go through him to get them.

Shaking his head, he slammed the bottle down on the coffee table. His dark eyes flashed and he clenched his hands into tight fists. He couldn't believe what an ungrateful, selfish, snot nosed little bastard Sam had turned out to be. His anger grew as he thought of all he had done for his sons over the last eighteen years. He had provided a place for them to live, food to eat and most importantly he had taught them how to survive.

He heard the door open and looked up in time to see his oldest walk in and close the door behind him. He watched as the boy stood, shuffling his weight from one foot to the other. It would have been funny; his twenty-two year old looking all of three, if he didn't know what was coming next.

Inwardly he groaned, Sam did it again, he got to him. John's dark eyes locked onto his son's green eyes and he spoke low, not calmly like Dean had with Sam, but dangerously, "Dean, not now. My mind's made up. We need Sam. You know it, I know it. This is a three person hunt. It's not just one wolf out there, there's at least two, maybe more. We need Sam. I know he's disappointed, but life is full of disappointments."

Dean swallowed, his dad was that pissed off. He thought of nodding and then heading back out to wait for Sam, but he had promised Sam he would try and he wasn't going to let him down. Dean nervously cleared his throat before he addressed his father. When he spoke his voice was submissive, "Yes, sir. But, I heard that Caleb was in the area and thought maybe we could call him and see if he's available. I mean, Sam's still pretty inexperienced when it comes to werewolves and I don't know, I think it might be better to have Caleb go along if he's available."

"Oh, you do, do you," John mockingly replied. "You know you might be onto something here. It would be better to have four than three. And as you mentioned, Sam's still pretty inexperienced."

John watched his son, a smirk growing on his face. "Yeah, I like it. That way I can stay with Sammy and you could stay with Caleb."

"No, dad, that's not what I meant," Dean started than faltered as John stood up from the couch, "What I meant was we could take Caleb along and leave Sam here, where he'd be safe. His mind wouldn't be on the hunt anyway and we both know it. It'd be better for everyone if he stayed behind."

John took a step towards Dean causing the younger man to shrink back against the wall. John felt the anger and frustration grow and this time, unlike he just had with Sam, he didn't try to stop it. He walked over to his son and grabbed him by the front of his shirt.

"Oh, you do, do you? What do you think I am? You really think I'm that stupid? I know what you're trying to do. You want me to agree to leave Sam here so he can take that girl to the dance then go to the beach after with their friends. Well, not gonna happen. Sam's going and that's that," John said as he slammed his son into the wall.

John's cell phone rang and he let go of the boy's shirt with one hand so he could answer it. John placed his free hand on Dean's chest, effectively holding the boy in place with very little effort. Dean watched as his dad's face reddened and his jaw clenched. He could tell by the look his dad was giving him that a shove against the wall wasn't all he was going to get out of this.

"Caleb," John said his voice eerily void of any of the anger he was feeling, "Yeah, you heard right. Yeah, that'd be great. Uh, huh, yep always appreciate an extra set of hands. Sure, no problem. We won't be leaving for a few days. Good, guess we'll see you then. No, no problem at all. I'm sure Dean won't mind you using his bed for a night. No, its fine, he usually falls asleep on the couch anyways. Yep, sure, me too. Ok see you then."

John slowly closed his phone. He turned a cool gaze upon his oldest and when he spoke the tenor of his voice sent chills through the young man's body. Dean swallowed, he knew he was in for it, he could feel it. How did Caleb know? He hadn't called him, yet, he knew better. He closed his eyes, Sam. Sam had called. Dammit Sammy, I told you I would handle this. He felt his father's weight shift, pushing him further into the wall; he felt his hot breath in his ear and he prayed for it to be over before Sammy returned from the store. 


	2. Chapter 2

John's anger had turned to full blown rage and his voice conveyed as much, "Well I guess you get your way. Whose idea was it to call Caleb and tell him that Sammy wasn't going because I had promised him he could stay behind and go out? Whose idea was it? Was it yours or was it his? Cause I gotta tell ya if it was your idea that brother of yours has no idea how lucky he is to have you for his brother. You're willing to do whatever it takes to make him happy, it's to bad he doesn't really appreciate it."

Dean felt the air leave his lungs and his knees go weak mere seconds after his dad landed the first punch to his stomach. His pain filled grunt reached his ears only a few seconds later, to be followed quickly by tears building in the corners of his eyes. 'Don't cry,' he thought, 'please don't; it'll only make it worse.'

John pulled his arm back and let lose with two more quick jabs to his mid-section. He removed his other arm from across Dean's chest and coldly watched as he fell to his knees, his arms wrapped around his stomach. The younger man's body shook as he coughed and he placed one hand on the floor in front of him for support.

"It's your fault, you know that don't you," John asked as he circled around his son, "You and your insisting that he be kept in the dark about what was out there. You and your wanting him to have a childhood, to hold onto that innocence of his until it was no longer possible."

John stopped in front of the boy. "Look at me when I talk to you," he ordered harshly and nodded when Dean raised his head and looked up at him. "That's better," John said his voice deceptively calm, "Oh, you're not the only one to blame here. No, you see I understand that I shoulder some of the responsibility as well; after all I did listen to you. I went along with you, and I see the error of my ways. I should have been with him like I was with you, from the very beginning. I shouldn't have allowed you to influence my decisions when it came to Sam. You were and still are only a child."

John hit Dean along the cheek bone with an open handed slap that was strong enough to flip him over onto his back. He straddled the stunned kid, placing his knees on the floor on either side of him. He reached out grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled his head up off the floor. John's voice had once again gone dangerously cold, "Now, here's what you're going to do. You're going to get up, go to your room, get the keys to your car and wait for me to leave with Sam before you head out. You're going to go to the local dive in town and stay for a few hours. When you get back and Sam asks you about your face, you'll tell him that you got caught hustling the wrong guy. Are you clear on that, boy?"

John slammed Dean back onto the floor then lifted him again when he hadn't answered him fast enough, "I said are you clear on that?"

"Y-yes sir," Dean stuttered out. John let go of his shirt and stood up. Dean rolled over pushed himself up and staggered to his room. He felt the tears as they threatened to break lose and this time he didn't stop them.

He made his way to his room and then to the small bathroom that he shared with Sam. Looking into the mirror he could already make out the red mark that would, by the next morning, turn into a rather nasty looking bruise on the left side of his face. He turned on the cold water, cupped his hands beneath the cool liquid and splashed some onto his face.

"He didn't mean it," he said to his reflection, "He's drunk and I should have known better than to have pushed him. If, I would have just let things be, none if it would have happened. He didn't mean it." Turning off the water he reached for the towel and patted his face dry, wincing as the towel came into contact with his abused face.

He grabbed his keys from the nightstand, which stood between his and Sam's beds, his coat from the hook on the back of the door and waited as he had been instructed to. He couldn't let Sam know what had happened and he was more than happy to follow his father's orders; besides a few good stiff drinks sounded good to him right now and maybe if he was lucky enough he would find a pretty young thing to console him.

Sam flipped his cell phone closed, pushed off the wall of the building he had been leaning against and headed home. He had stretched the truth, hell, he flat out lied to Caleb. He knew his dad wasn't stupid and he realized that once his dad talked to Caleb his little scheme would be exposed, but that didn't matter; it would be worth the extra training he'd have to do. Sam groaned. "Oh, man I'm sorry," he whispered, "I wasn't thinking. Dad won't train you extra hard, you like training; no, he'll stick you with researching."

Feeling a little guilty he headed to the convenient store and hoped that a bag of peanut M & M's and a soda would suffice as a peace offering when it came time to face his brother. He didn't doubt that Dean would be angry with him, but desperate times called for desperate measures and this about as desperate a time he had ever known.

Sam entered the store and made a bee line for the soda cooler in the back. He reached in, grabbed a couple sodas then headed for the candy aisle. He had picked up the M & M's and had turned to head to the check counter when he felt a hand land on his shoulder. He jerked away, dropped his intended purchases, swiftly spun on his heels and raised his hands in a defensive posture. The person who had come up behind him gave a frightened squeak and jumped back. It would have been funny if it had been anyone other than Allison.

"Damn," Sam muttered, and then quickly added, "Uh, sorry, Allison, guess I'm a little jumpy tonight." Sam felt his face grow warm and knew that he was blushing. He gave her a sheepish grin and dropped his gaze to the floor.

Allison smiled at Sam then bent down to pick up the soda and candy he dropped. She stood back up and handed them to him her cool blue eyes meeting his. She brushed a strand of her ebony colored hair from her face before she spoke, "No problem, Sam, I'm sorry I scared you. I thought you heard me calling for you."

"Yeah, uhm, sorry, guess my mind was somewhere else," Sam shyly answered.

"I suppose it was," Allison replied, "I hope you don't mind, but I was heading to the Dairy Bar when I saw you come in here. I thought I'd stop and ask if you wanted to go along."

"Yeah, sure. Let me pay for this and I'll meet you there." Sam took his phone out and thought about calling Dean to let him know where he was going, but quickly decided against it. He knew Dean would try to talk him out of it and well quite honestly he didn't think he could get in any deeper than he already was. He put his phone back in his pocket, paid for his items and headed off to meet Allison

John paced the small living room his anger growing with every passing minute. He looked at the clock, to the door, then back to the clock. He had been waiting for over an hour for his youngest to get back from the store. Shaking his head he grabbed his jacket off the chair he had thrown it on and called for Dean.

The younger man jumped at the sound of his dad's voice. He looked at his watch and noticed that Sam had been gone for over an hour. 'Oh, this can't be good,' he thought as he made his way back to the living room.

John stood leaning against the front door his arms crossed over his chest, lips pressed in a firm line. When Dean stepped into the living room, John pressed off the door and addressed the younger man, "I'm going to go out and look for Sam. I suggest you take this time and head out. I hope for your sake that nothing serious has happened and he just got sidetracked. He's been doing that a lot lately. I don't know what's gotten into him. Just because he's eighteen doesn't mean he can do what he wants."

Dean followed his dad out the door, his orders were clear. He was to go to the local bar and hang out for a few hours, or at least long enough for the story of him being beaten up by someone he had hustled would be believable. He walked to his car, climbed inside, started her up and lost himself in the comforting rumble of her engine.

The bar was like all the others he had found himself in. Cigarette smoke hung heavy in the air, the smell of liquor and sweat was thick and the music was louder than it needed to be. He made his way to the bar, found an empty stool and sat down. He motioned for the bar tender and ordered a beer from the tap. He picked up his drink and turned himself around on the stool so he could look out over the rest of the bar.

He spotted the pool table in the far right corner and decided that since he was there he might as well play a game or two. He stood from the stool, grabbed his drink and weaved his way through the crowded bar to the pool table. He walked up to the group that stood around the table watching the game that was being played. He watched the match and found himself being impressed by one of the players.

Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, to keep it from falling forward into her face and interfering with her game. She wore a tight pink t-shirt and a pair of tight fitting blue jeans. His breath caught in his chest when her brown eyes met his. She was attractive and she knew it. She landed the last shot and won the game. She brushed past him on her way to collect the money she had won, and he felt that all too familiar desire grow.

The crowd dispersed and soon he found himself alone, well as alone as one could be in a crowded bar, with her. He racked the balls and asked her if she wanted to play a game, he even offered to let her break.

She smiled at him. "Alright," she answered, "Why not? Care to make a little wager on the game?"

He smiled back at her. "Alright," he replied and extended his hand to her, "Why not? My name's, Dean."

She took his hand gave it a quick shake, "My name's, Cali." She took the first shot and soon found herself watching him as he played. She noticed his strong jaw line, the way his body moved as he walked around the table and most of all his eyes. His eyes were the purest green she had ever seen and in the depths of those eyes she would have sworn she could see his life story.

They played another game, had a few more drinks and then found themselves heading back to her apartment. He followed her into her bedroom well aware that she wanted/needed this as much as he. He let himself get lost in the moment with her. For a moment he felt wanted, loved. He knew it wasn't real, that it wouldn't last; but for the moment he let himself believe it would.

When he woke a few hours later he found himself alone. Cali had left a note on the pillow explaining that she had to go into work early, thanking him for the previous night and suggested that they try to hook up again.

He rolled out of bed, pulled his clothes on and headed to the bathroom. He quickly did what he needed to do, washed his hands and splashed some water on his face. He threw the note away, left her apartment and made his way back home. 


	3. Chapter 3

Sam sat in the booth at the Dairy Bar his attention solely focused on the pretty dark haired girl sitting beside him, her hand tightly held by his. The hot fudge sundae they were sharing sitting in the center of the table with their two spoons sticking out of what was left of the ice-cream.

Allison playfully collected some whipped cream from the bowl, with her finger and plopped it on the tip of Sam's nose. Sam gave an indignant grunt; his mouth twisted in a false frown and proceeded to do the same to her. Soon they were both covered in the remaining sundae and found themselves being ushered out of the store, when Allison decided to end the little contest of who could cover whom the most by dumping the remaining contents of the bowl over Sam's head. The two teens fled the tiny ice-cream parlor, their laughter floating along the cool spring breeze; neither of them aware of the presence following them.

Sam walked Allison, the five blocks, back to her house and headed back to his apartment. His mind was still on her and the good time he had just had that he didn't see the hand reaching for him from between two buildings until it was too late. Letting out a surprised yelp, he found himself pulled into an alley and shoved against a wall.

John gripped the front of his youngest boy's shirt with an iron tight grip. He made sure he was standing well inside the boys personal space, his nose mere inches from Sam's. Sam shivered when his eyes took in the anger that burned deep in his father's. Sam's previous thought of not being able to get any deeper in to it than he already was changed, in the blink of an eye, to oh sh!t, I really stepped in it now.

John's hot breath tickled Sam's nose and he could clearly smell the alcohol that lingered there. He felt his dad's body tremble with rage and he prayed that whatever his dad had in mind would be quick and as painless as humanly possible.

John smiled when he saw the fear that had set up residence in his youngest. Taking a deep breath he let go of Sam's shirt and took a step back. "You lose track of time, Sam," John asked his voice letting Sam know that no nonsense was going to be tolerated.

"Dean, told me that you had run to the corner store and that you'd be right back. I realized once he had mentioned Caleb, it was his way of getting you gone so he could talk to me," John watched his son and noticed the way he began shuffling his feet once Caleb was mentioned. John's smile grew, 'Good, he's nervous, shows that he hasn't completely lost all his sense', John thought to himself; then continued, "Imagine my surprise when Caleb called and mentioned that he had been asked to join us on a hunt because I had agreed to let you go out. What I'd like to know is which one of you decided to call Caleb and lie to him? I know which of you did the calling (John pointedly looked at Sam); what I want to know is which of you decided that calling him before talking to me was a good idea?"

John already knew the answer; he wanted to hear it from Sam. Sam couldn't look his father in the eye, the level of agitation he felt from the older man making him feel all of six years old and brought back the memory of what happened the time he thought hiding from his dad was a good idea. Sam bristled as the memory came to him. He was a grown man, he wasn't six anymore and he wasn't going to allow his father to treat him like a child anymore.

Sam squared his shoulders, brought his eyes up to meet his dad's and defiantly answered, "No, I didn't lose track of time. I met Allison at the store and decided to go get some ice-cream with her. It was my idea to call Caleb. Dean mentioned he was close by and said that he would talk to you about Caleb going in my place. I wasn't going to risk you saying no, so I called knowing you wouldn't say no and risk looking like an ass in front of him. I took the initiative and found someone to go in my place. It's not like you really needed me anyway, you just wanted to keep me from doing something I really wanted to. I'm eighteen dad. I don't need your permission to get ice-cream with a girl and I sure as hell don't have to go along on any hunts that I don't want to."

Sam paused to catch his breath and when he spoke his voice was low and laced with hate, "This way of life is something you choose for yourself, and you just dragged me along. I don't want this, I never did. You don't give a second thought about me, unless it's something to do with a hunt or something you do to impress your friends. All I ever wanted was to stay in one place, to go to the same school for more than a few months, to be normal. You can't make me do anything anymore. I'm an adult now and I won't have you treating me like I'm still a little kid. I can take care of myself; god knows I've been doing it long enough."

The sound of the slap echoed off the walls of the alley, along with the sound of Sam's surprised and pain filled cry. John grabbed the front of Sam's shirt and pulled him close; ignoring the blood that dripped from his sons split lip. "Enough," he ground out, "You think you're so grown up? Then leave. Go on and leave. I can't make you stay. I can't make you go. I can't make you do anything, right?" John let go of Sam's shirt giving him a shove back.

Sam stood his back against the wall, his father's hands on either side of him trapping him there. The defiance he had felt seconds ago having been replaced by trepidation; he lowered his eyes and surrendered. John smiled, "Not so sure of yourself are you, now? Yeah, Sammy the world can be a cold place when you're all alone. You think you have it bad now? Well, even you are smart enough to realize just how tough things could be on your own. I'll tell you what. I'm willing to let this little incident slide, this time, but I'm warning you Sam, you don't want to keep pushing me. I expect you to meet your brother right after school tomorrow, you both owe me for this little favor and I know just how you'll repay me. A friend of mine has a house a few towns over that needs some work done. You two just volunteered. I'll drive you over and you both can spend the weekend working on it, and when you're not working you can be training. I'll pick you back up on Sunday and we should all be here in time to have supper with Caleb. What ya, think Sammy, sound like a plan?"

Sam nodded, then quickly added, "Yes, sir."

John smiled, pushed himself back away from Sam and said "Good boy. Now what ya say we head back to the apartment? I'm kinda hungry. How's pizza sound?"

Sam just nodded and followed his dad out of the alley. He had been planning on going with Allison and a few friends to the beach cottage this weekend, but now; now he wasn't so sure. His mind went to the acceptance letter safely locked away in his locker at school and a smile tugged at his lips. 'All I have to do is make it through the summer. Come this fall I'm off to Stanford, he can't stop me.' His smile faded when he thought about leaving his brother, but he didn't have a choice. 'This life isn't for me and I can't live with dad for much longer, one of us is sure to wind up dead. I don't want to leave Dean. I'm not leaving Dean. I'm leaving dad and this life. Dean can come with, if he wants, but only if he wants.'


	4. Chapter 4

Sam woke and looked at the small alarm clock that sat on the nightstand by his bed; groaning he rolled over and attempted to go back to sleep. Another loud bang from the living room had him throwing off his blankets and angrily going to see what, just the hell, was going on.

He rounded the corner from the hallway and stopped dead in his tracks; the scene that played out in front of him was one he had, unfortunately, become accustomed to. John lay sprawled out on the floor having, in a drunken stupor, tripped over an end table after getting lost on his way back to his room from the bathroom.

Sam watched as his dad pushed himself to his feet and stumbled towards the hall; his ears growing red with the slew of rather colorful words that flowed from his fathers angered lips. Slinking back to his room, Sam closed the door and quietly made his way back to his bed, in the mood his dad was now in, it wouldn't do to let him know he had been up.

John trudged back to his room, his pride as hurt as the shins he had hit the end table with. He made it back to his room without further incident and crawled back into his bed; giving a quick glance to the alarm clock that sat on the table by his bed, he groaned. It was five-thirty and Sam would be getting up in an hour to get ready for school.

John flopped over onto his stomach and pulled the pillow up over his head. He knew that once Sam was up and milling about, sleep would become all but impossible to achieve. He felt the familiar ache in the pit of his stomach and the wetness of the tears as they formed at the corners of his eyes. Cursing he pushed himself up, flipped back over and sat up, his feet touching the coolness of the wooden floor.

He reached out, picked the picture frame that sat by his alarm clock up and felt the dam break. He was tired, over tired, his nerves stretched as far as they could possibly go. Sam had been testing him these last few months, pushing to see just how far he could go. John knew he was strung tight. He knew the drinking wasn't helping, but, he didn't know any other way to deal.

He looked at the pretty blonde woman, who stood in the picture, her face smiling at him while she held her oldest in her arms, his bottom sitting on her extended pregnant belly. John ran a hand over his face and let out a sigh, the photograph bringing back memories of a happier time.

"Mary," he said his voice a mixture of sorrow and exhaustion, "I remember when you came home and told me you were pregnant, we were all so excited, although I think Dean was more so. I can still see the way his eyes lit up at the idea of being a big brother. I can still hear his giggles as he sat on your stomach waiting to feel his little brother kick, then the seriousness in voice when he asked you if it hurt.

Gah, Mary, what am I doing? You have no idea how much I wish you were here. Sam's pushing me, Mary, he's really pushing me. I never had this problem with Dean. With Dean things were easier, he was and is always so eager to please. But, Sam, he pushes my buttons, and the sad thing is Dean gets caught in the middle, and more often than not he catches the brunt of my anger. I don't know why, Mary, I wish I did, but I don't. Maybe it's because I know he'll take it, he won't fight me back unlike Sam. I know it's not fair and it's more than a little screwed up, but damn it Mary ever since you left things have been a little screwed up.

I can feel it Mary, Sam's slipping away. He's legally an adult now and I can feel him getting ready to run. I'm not sure, but I think he applied to and got accepted into some college. I've asked Dean about it, and he claims not to know anything, but, I swear Mary he's lying. He knows something I don't, and he just doesn't know how to tell me."

John drew in another deep breath and slowly let it out. He felt the tension in his back and shoulder's ease; he lay back down and curled up on his side, Mary's picture held tight to his chest. The tears had stopped and he felt the ache in his stomach ease. A soft sad smile formed on his lips and as he felt himself drifting back to sleep he whispered, "I miss you Mary."

Sam hit the turn off button on his alarm clock and rolled out of bed. He grabbed his clothes from the chair he placed them on the night before and headed to the bathroom. He flinched when one of the old floorboards squeaked and held his breath until he was certain he hadn't woken his dad up. As quickly and quietly as he could he showered, dressed and made his way to the kitchen.

Deciding cereal would be quietest option for breakfast he pulled the half full box out of the cupboard, a bowl out of the drying rack next to the sink and the almost empty carton of milk out of the refrigerator. Sam sat at the table and thought about how he was going to tell Allison he couldn't go to the cabin tonight to help get things set up for next weekend. He was tempted to ask Dean to cover for him, but he scratched that idea right away, he had already gotten his brother deep enough into it, he wasn't going to risk piling any more on.

Sam's head snapped up when he heard someone enter the kitchen. "Geez, Dean what happened to you? You look like you went a couple rounds with Mike Tyson and got your ass handed to you" he said as he took in his brother's appearance.

Dean stood in the doorway wearing nothing more than jeans, his wet hair sticking up in little spikes, a dark purple bruise gracing one side of his face while lighter bruising spotted his stomach. Unconsciously he reached up and gingerly touched his discolored cheek. "Well good morning to you too, Sammy," he wisecracked, lowered his hand and continued, "Hey you didn't use up all the milk did you?"

Sam gave Dean an apologetic nod, "Sorry there wasn't much left. Hey, Dean, that's not all I'm sorry about. About last night, I know I shouldn't have called Caleb when I did, but I couldn't risk dad saying no. I'm real sorry. I really am….."

Dean raised his hand, cutting Sam's apology short. "Look, its ok. Well, maybe not ok, but I understand. I agreed that dad could be a real hard nosed son of a bitch didn't I? But, Sam it would have been nice if you would have let me handle it."

He continued talking as he set a fresh pot of coffee up to brew. "I know you don't think I'm as smart as you are, but when it comes to dad I am. I know him better than anyone. If you would have let me handle things, we wouldn't be spending the weekend working on some stranger's house….not to mention I wouldn't be nursing a bruised face and mid-section, Dean thought to himself…. I know how much this dance means to you, Sammy, but when all is said and done, the dance will be over and then what? Life would be so much easier if you'd just accept the way things are. We aren't normal, we aren't ever gonna be normal. You can have your little fantasy this time, but don't fool yourself into thinking it's anything more than that, cause that's all it is, a fantasy."

"Why," Sam asked, "Why is it just a fantasy? Who says I have to do this the rest of my life, huh Dean, who? Dad? Yeah, like I'm gonna let him run me like he does you. I'm tired of moving around. I'm tired of having to lie to everyone we meet. I'm tired of worrying about which one of us wont make it back from a hunt. And, most of all I'm tired of not being able to be who I am. I'm not like you and dad, Dean; I don't live for the thrill of the hunt. I want to go to school, and I don't know, maybe study law or something. All I know is I want out, to get away from all this."

Dean's stomach clenched, Sam's words hit him harder than his dad's fists had the night before. Sam wants out. He wants to get away from everything, including me, after all, I'm part of this; his thoughts swirled around that one concept…Sam wants to leave me.

Sam noticed the slight flicker of emotion that had flashed over his brother's face, it was hard to catch because as fast it appeared it was quickly shoved back down under the mask he always wore, but Sam was certain he had seen it.

Dean cleared his throat and turned his back on Sam under the pretense of pouring himself a cup of coffee. He could feel Sam staring at him and he cursed himself for letting that slight flicker break through. "Yeah, well that may be, but for now you're here and I'll pick you up after school, right after," he turned back around, having once again successfully gotten his emotions under control, "dad'll be waiting for us. You better get going, wouldn't wantcha to be late."

Sam stood up from the table, took his empty cereal bowl to the sink and then headed out to the living room. He sat down on the chair closest to the door and put his shoes on; as he was walking out the door he heard call to him, "Don't forget Sam, right after school. I don't want to spend another weekend working on some house, or god knows what because you decided you didn't want to do what dad said."


	5. Chapter 5

"Mr. Winchester," Sam's French teacher snapped.

Sam raised his head at the sharpness of the teacher's voice which had managed to cut through the thick fog that had set up residence in head. His cheeks blushed as he realized that he had been asked a question and instead of answering he had been caught daydreaming. His voice thick with embarrassment, Sam stuttered out, "I-I-I'm sorry, what was the question?"

Mr. Franklin sighed, he wasn't a stranger to the ease with which seniors so often became distracted the last few weeks of class, as the excitement of graduation approached, but he refused to tolerate it. Final examinations were coming up and this material would count for a third of their grade.

Mr. Franklin always covered the book titled Les Jeux Sans Faits, which translated means The Plays Are Made, by Jean-Paul Sartre. He felt that the core message of the story was a fitting lesson to the outgoing class. He believed the lesson of freedom as an illusion but also being necessary, was important; as was the lesson that it is impossible to know whether your choices are right or wrong even if they were done under the best of intentions and that we are destined to follow our choices whether bad or good helped to prepare the children for their new roles as adults in the world.

He wanted them to leave his class with an understanding that what they choose to do had an effect on the world around them and that they had better be prepared to deal with the consequences of their choices. He wanted them to realize before it was too late that the only thing that would keep them from living ineffectual, momentary lives would be their ability to interact with the world surrounding them in accordance with their choices.

He wanted to empower them to be more than mere ghosts who walked among the crowds but instead to be actively involved in their lives and the world around them. He didn't want for them to miss out on any opportunities that were to come their way because they couldn't let go of things in the past. He didn't want them to end up like, Pierre and Eve, the main characters who missed out on a second chance because they were unable to see the folly in trying to change the past and were unable to move on. It was for these reasons that he refused to tolerate any daydreaming in his class.

Mr. Franklin stood from his behind his desk and walked to stand in front of it. He had the distinct feeling that there was something more than senior distraction going on with Sam, as it was uncommon for him to be anything less than an active participant in class. In fact, it was Sam's genuine enthusiasm that reminded him why had become a teacher in the first place.

No, there had to be something else going on and he intended to find out. He lent back against his desk and addressed Sam, "Well, Mr. Winchester why don't we discuss the question after school today in detention. I will expect you to be at the library promptly after the last bell of the day, understood?"

Sam nodded, his eyes once more staring at his desk; thoughts of what do I do now ran through is mind. The period bell rang and everyone started to pack up, including Sam. He briefly thought about asking his teacher if he could put off detention until next Monday, explaining that his dad had a trip planned, but he knew it wouldn't make a difference; he was going to have to figure out a way to tell his dad he was going to be late.

Sam spent the next two classes trying to come up with something, anything, but all he could think of was to call Dean. He didn't want to involve him, but every scenario he played out ended in disaster. No, he was gonna need his big brother's help with this one.

Dean sat in the county library, located a few towns over from where they were staying, dated editions of newspapers stacked high on the table. He was checking obituaries, looking for anything that might resemble a pattern. He had stumbled across a few deaths that looked suspicious, an entire family violently wiped out as they slept. The police were stumped as to what would have been the cause. The bodies showed no outward signs of injuries, but their autopsies revealed major internal damage that could have only been caused by the victims having been brutally beaten. The police were baffled.

Dean's lips turned down when he looked at the picture of the family. It showed the typical, happy family, mom, dad and two young children. It was the children that got to him. He looked at the two boys and guessed them to be around nine and thirteen years old. At thirteen Dean was, probably, helping his dad kill something similar to what had killed this family and showing his little brother the right way to handle a shotgun.

His cell phone started to vibrate so he picked it up off the table and flipped it open. Frowning at the number on the caller ID (What's wrong with Sam that the school would be calling? And, why didn't they call dad?), he answered the phone; "This is Dean Winchester."

"Hey Dean, its Sam, look man I'm sorry to bother you but we have a little problem. I got detention after school and there isn't a way to get out of it."

"What do you mean we have a problem? From the sounds of it you're the one with the problem. What happened anyway?"

"I was thinking about having to go with you and helping dad's friend instead of being able to go with Allison to the cabin and got caught daydreaming. My French teacher has a real issue with kids not paying attention in class so he gave me detention. Dean, I have to go. I have to. If I skip out of it, I could end up suspended; that could affect my graduating, even keep me from going to Prom," Sam explained hoping that his voice conveyed the fact that he had his patented puppy eyes working.

"Yeah, well Sammy, if you're late meeting dad you'll get a lot worse than suspended. I guess you need to decide what you'd rather suffer…..the wrath of dad or a suspension from school."

"Dean! Please," Sam pleaded, "Look man I don't want to get you into more trouble than you're already in, but please. I can't miss the dance or graduation, and I can't have dad getting anymore pissed at me….please, Dean, please help me."

Dean ran his hand down his face, his eyes falling to the picture of the murdered family and the two brothers, smiling with their arms wrapped around each other. He drew in a deep breath and replied, "Alright, Sammy, calm down. I'll think of something, but you're gonna owe me." Dean reached up and touched his bruised cheek, "You're gonna owe me big."

Sam let out a sigh of relief, "Sure Dean, no problem. Thanks man." Sam hung up the phone and headed back to the cafeteria, if he was lucky he could grab a quick bite before lunch was over and he had to head out to his afternoon classes.

Dean flipped the lid to his phone closed, "Damn it Sammy," he said then he flipped the phone open and dialed their dad's number, "Well, here goes nothing." Dean waited while the phone rang, trepidation building in his stomach. His heart stopped when he heard his dad pick up on the other end. Swallowing the lump of fear that had built in his throat he managed to say, "Hey dad, it's me Dean. I'm running a little late. I lost track of time and have hit some traffic. I just wanted to let you know. I'll still get Sam from school, but we're gonna be an hour or so late."

Dean's face went pale, "I'm sorry, sir. I know. I understand. No, you're right. I should have left when you told me to. Yes, I'll try to get home, sooner. I just need to follow up on this one thing. I won't. I promise. No. it's alright. Sam can hang out in the library until I get there. That'll make him happy. Yes, sir." Dean ended the call with his dad; his hand trembled as he stuffed his cell into his jeans pocket. Touching his bruised cheek, yet again, he hauntingly said, "Yeah, Sammy you owe me big for this."

Dean alternated between chewing on his finger nails and nervously tapping the steering wheel as he sat waiting for Sam in the high school's parking lot. Sam was already five minutes later than he should have been.

"Damn it Sam, come on, dad's already pissed enough," Dean huffed out as he smacked the steering wheel. After five more minutes of staring at the school's entrance and not seeing Sam, Dean opened the door to his car and climbed out; his frustrations got the better of him and he slammed the door closed behind him.

He cringed, turned and tenderly placed his hands on the sun warmed metal of his car. "Sorry, baby," he lovingly whispered, "didn't mean to take it out on you. I guess we'll just add that to the growing list of things Sammy owes me for." Dean gave his favorite girl a gentle pat then headed into the school to find his errant brother.

Sam sat at the library table his books packed away and watched the clock as it ticked down the final few seconds of detention. The clock turned to read four on the dot and he stood with the others to leave. He followed the line out of the library to find himself being stopped by Mr. Franklin's hand on his arm. "Sam can I have a moment please," Mr. Franklin asked.

Sam looked back at the clock and shook his head, "Mr. Franklin, I really have to get going. My brother's waiting for me and our dad is waiting for us. We really need to get home. Can't this wait until Monday?"

"Sam, I wish it could, but to be honest I've grown very concerned about you. You seem much more distracted lately in class. Your work hasn't suffered, you are still at the top of your class, but you're not as focused as you usually are. I've let it slide for a few days, but today was the worst it's been. Is everything ok at home?" Mr. Franklin detected Sam's reaction to his question so he continued on, "I noticed your lip was split today and it hasn't been the first time I've noticed something like this. Sam, there's no reason to be afraid or embarrassed to talk to someone about what's going on; if you need help I want to let you know all you have to do is ask. You have a bright future ahead of you; don't let fear or embarrassment hold you back."

Sam stood, staring, slack-jawed as he listened to his teacher. He knows; he knows and even though Sam wanted to tell him the truth he lied like always, "Mr. Franklin, really everything is alright. My brother and I like to play football, we're both really competitive and most of the time we get a little rough; you know take things a little too far. You should see him." Sam sighed; he could tell by the way Mr. Franklin was looking at him that he didn't believe him, "Seriously, there's nothing to be concerned about. I'm not keeping anything from you. I'm more out of it now because, well because my dad planned this trip out of town for this weekend and I wanted to stay and hang out with my friends. Nothing more than that; I promise. Ok? Look I really need to get going I'm already late."

Mr. Franklin nodded. "Alright," he said, even though he didn't believe Sam explanation, "I expect you to be ready to pay attention on Monday, no more daydreaming, understand?"

Sam nodded, "Yes, sir."

Dean, who had been eavesdropping in on his brother's conversation, turned and quickly headed back to his car, he didn't want Sam to know he had been listening in. He slid back onto the driver's side of the front seat and waited for Sam. He watched as his little brother walked towards the car, with his head down and his shoulder's slumped.

Sam slid into the passenger's side of the front seat. "Sorry, Dean, Mr. Franklin wanted to talk to me. I tried to tell him I had to leave but he wouldn't listen," Sam quietly said, "So just how mad is dad?"

Dean took a close look at his brother and mentally kicked himself; he couldn't believe that he hadn't noticed his brother's lip, it was hard to miss. 'That bastard,' he thought, 'he hit Sammy.' Shaking his head, Dean started the car. "Don't worry about dad, Sam, it's covered," taking a deep breath to steady the anger he felt growing over his dad having hit Sam, Dean asked, "Uh, Sam, hey man what happened to your mouth? That's a pretty nasty split you got there. You go and get mouthy with the wrong person?" 

"Uhm, no, I was getting a drink out of one the water fountains and a group of kids walked by, they were horsing around, and one of them got pushed into me and I ended up hitting my face hard on the spout. It's not that bad. It's not," Sam huffed at the look his brother gave him, "You just worry too much."

"Yeah, whatever," Dean replied as he put the car in drive, pulled out of the parking lot and headed home. 


	6. Chapter 6

John irritably paced the living room, his aggravation growing with every minute that ticked by with no sign of his boys. He looked at the clock, yet again, when he heard the familiar rumble of the old classic as she pulled up outside.

Dean entered the apartment first, stopping short when he saw his dad standing in the middle of the living room; his arms crossed over his chest, the anger that burned deep within clearly shining through his dark eyes.

"Uh, sorry dad, I guess my little side trip took longer than I had anticipated," Dean stammered, "But, I did find something interesting; I'll fill you in on the way. I'm gonna go grab our bags and I'll meet you out by the car, in five. Sam's already waiting in the car."

"Fine, but hurry it up, we should have been on the road over an hour ago," John called after Dean, not even bothering to try and conceal his anger. John made his way to the car and slipped behind the steering wheel, through the rearview mirror he looked at his youngest who sat nervously waiting for his brother in the backseat.

Sam felt his dad's stare and looked up, meeting his father's eyes in the mirror. John noticed how Sam squirmed under his scrutiny and decided now was the time to try to get the truth out of the kid, while he was alone and obviously nervous. John knew that as soon as Dean was around, Sam would glide back under his brother's protective wing and the truth would be lost.

"So," John causally stated, "You decided to stay after and wait for Dean in the library while he finished checking up on something, didn't you get bored?"

"No, actually it was nice, I had a chance to get most of my homework done, seeing as I wont have anytime this weekend to really work on it and with finals coming up, I really needed the extra time," Sam answered.

"Really, so that's the only reason you decided to stay after? There isn't another reason you would have needed to? I mean if that's the only reason you could have worked on that here, before Dean got home, instead of being cooped up in the school's library," John countered, not failing to notice how Sam's squirming had increased.

"Yeah, why else would I have stayed? I could have done the work here, but I really needed the quiet of the library. I guess Dean's running late worked to my advantage and it paid off on the research as well, wait until he tells you what he found."

John shrugged, he had given Sam a chance to come clean and he hadn't. He'd give Dean the same chance and if he refused to tell the truth, well there'd be hell to pay.

Dean let out an audible grunt when his back connected hard with the ground. He rolled over to his side and barely managed to deflect the kick that was heading for his mid-section. Rolling to his knees he put his hands out in front of him and pushed himself up, rotating around so he was once again facing his opponent.

His dad was pissed that much was evident, but about what Dean couldn't be entirely sure. His dad hadn't given any indication that he was upset on the ride up, in fact it was just the opposite; he sat and quietly listened to Dean as he told him about what he had discovered during his research, hell he even praised him on his good work.

Dean shook his head, so just what had his dad so worked up? He gingerly touched his left temple and felt the unmistakably warm and sticky texture of blood. He flicked his eyes in his little brother's direction and saw him watching them, uncertainty and fear dancing in his hazel eyes.

Sam looked on as the match between his brother and father continued. He didn't quite understand what was happening. Sure he understood that his dad had wanted to get a little sparring practice in once they had arrived at his friends house; but, this wasn't just sparring, this looked more like a beat down. He flinched when his brother's back once again connected with the unyielding ground and his head snapped back, bouncing against the hard packed dirt.

John raised his leg yet again, fully prepared to deliver another kick towards his eldest when the panicked voice of his youngest cut through the veil of anger that had enveloped him.

"Dad, stop," Sam yelled out, "What the hell, just stop." Sam's words were directed at his father but his eyes were on his brother. Sam ran to Dean's side when his father took a step back and had turned his back on them.

Dean laid on the ground his head spinning, stomach churning all the while unconsciousness tried to claim him. He blinked his eyes slowly and swallowed against the bile that had risen in his throat. His back screamed from the abuse it had taken, and although he was sure nothing was broken, he was certain he would be feeling the after effects of this little sparring session for days if not a few weeks to come.

Sam reached out took Dean's hand in his and asked if he was alright and if he knew just what the unholy hell all that had been about. Not trusting himself to not lose the fight he was winning against throwing up if he tried to speak, Dean simply nodded his head yes then shook it no.

John ran his hands through his hair then over his face. He looked over his shoulder at his sons, one kneeling beside the prone and injured form of the other, and drank in the obvious love and concern they had for one another. He felt a twinge of pride deep in the pit of his stomach at the closeness those two had been able to foster in spite of all the evil and darkness their lives had been shrouded in, it was clear and present proof that good, no matter how small, still existed in the world.

It didn't take long, however, for the pride to once again be stamped out by his resentment over having been lied to by both his boys. John turned on his heels, "Sammy why don't you go ahead and go inside and get ready for dinner? Dean's fine. We'll be inside in a bit."

"No," Sam said his voice shaky but determined, "You think I'm going to leave him alone with you? Jeez dad, just what were thinking?"

John's dark eyes flashed and Dean reached out to touch Sam's arm. "Sam, I'm fine go ahead and go inside," noting the concerned look his younger sibling wore he continued, "It's alright, we'll be in shortly. Go ahead, please."

Sam frowned, shook his head and glared at his dad, "Fine, but could you tell me what the hell you were thinking or if you even were? You have that hunt coming up next week…."

John, interrupted Sam his voice firm and commanding, "Exactly, and that hunt involves wolves, Sammy, wolves. If your brother performs like he did just now on that hunt, well let's just say that Caleb and I will be bringing him back in more than one piece. Those wolves won't forgive your brothers sloppiness, not like I do."

"Yeah, right. Like I'm gonna believe that," Sam felt Dean tug on his arm and looked down at him, "What! Really, what? You can't expect me to believe that this was all about you learning to be more careful on the hunt do you? Do you?"

"Sam, please," Dean said turning on his version of the puppy dog eyes, "nothing is going on, trust me. Its fine….I'm fine. Now go on inside."

Sam shook his head. "Fine," he huffed. Sam stood and headed in the direction of the house he looked over his shoulder, caught his dad's full gaze and if looks could kill John Winchester would've dropped dead where he stood.

When John was sure that Sam was out of earshot he reached his hand out to his oldest, who grasped it, and helped to pull him up. Dean swayed and John wrapped an arm around him to steady him. As the two men walked to the house John let his oldest son know just what all that had been about, "Next time I ask you a question you might want to think twice before you lie to me."

Dean shot his dad a confused look. John smiled and coldly answered, "I know, Dean. I know that Sam was held after school today; they called and let me know. In fact it was a very interesting phone conversation I had with them. It seems that Sammy's French teacher is under the impression that Sam's being knocked around from time to time and he suspects that I'm the one doing the knocking. Sam denied it of course and said that he's been distracted by the prom and all that teenage stuff. Seems like Mr. Teacher didn't really buy it, but had to settle for it, he wanted to let me know that he's keeping an eye on the situation. I explained to him that there wasn't a situation and that maybe he might want to watch the accusations he's throwing around. I told him I've never hit Sam and I'm not about to start now.

As, if that wasn't infuriating enough, you both lie to me and tell me that the reason you're going to be late is because you were behind in the research and had one more thing to check out. Son," John started then stopped when he saw Dean instinctively shy away from the hand he had raised to put on his eldest's shoulder. John let his hand fall before he continued, "I know you think you're looking out for Sam, but you're not when you cover for him. He needs to learn to man-up, to take responsibility for his actions and accept the consequences of those actions."

Dean stopped in his tracks. "Like, last night," he growled, "Huh, dad? I know you're the reason he has a busted lip. Oh he lied to me about it, he said it happened because he got pushed mouth first into a drinking fountain, but I know better. I know he left the house with his mouth like that. What, now; taking your anger out on me wasn't enough? You had to go after Sammy too? What the hell's wrong with you? Sam's still a kid, he's barely eighteen. He's not wired like us, and I thank God he isn't. You're going to drive him away is that what you want? Is it?" Dean's voice rose in pitch as his face turned red and he let all his pent up frustration and anger out.

John's first instinct was to knock the insolence that his boy was displaying right out of him and so he did. Dean felt the punch connect with his chin, tasted blood as he bit his tongue and watched with disconnected interest as the world went black.


	7. Chapter 7

John stood looking down at the unmoving form of his eldest; stunned surprise preventing him from doing the one thing his head screamed for him to do, check on him. John's head snapped up when he heard Sam call out to him from the house.

Slowly, John turned his attention to his youngest then he looked down at his hands, still balled into fists, and dropped to his knees. He couldn't look back at Dean, quilt and fear clamping a tight fist around his heart. He sat on his knees, staring at his hands and felt the warm tears build.

Sam had heard the discussion growing louder and had headed back out to check on things. He had made it to the open screen door the very moment his dad had drawn his fist back and thrust it forward hitting Dean on the chin, effectively knocking him out. He had been stunned into inaction, but, unlike his father, had been able to pull himself out of it, his worry for Dean taking over. Sam had called to his dad, watched as he turned away from his brother and dropped to his knees.

"Son of a," Sam started as he launched himself out of the house and over to where Dean lie. He skidded to a halt beside his older sibling his hands lightly floating over him checking him for injuries. Once he was satisfied that John hadn't broken anything, he focused his attention on his father as he was going to need his help in moving Dean inside.

"Dad, look at me," Sam started his voice both angered and panicked, "Dad, what the hell? Snap out of it. LOOK AT ME!" John turned his head so he was looking at Sam but he refused to look down. Sam nodded and continued, "Dad what the hell happened? Why did…why did you," and he couldn't finish his throat having constricted so he pointed to where his brother lie.

John shook his head, he wouldn't, no couldn't, look down; inside a conflict had started to brew, one between the caring father he wanted to be and the strict authoritarian he needed to be. His thoughts swirled around in his head, 'John, snap out of it, your sons need you.' 'Winchester, toughen up, the boy asked for it, hell he begged for it. First he lies to you then he has the nerve to speak to with that tone. You ask me he's lucky he's still breathing.'

The tears began to fall and he began to shake then her voice filled his very being. Everything stopped, the tears, the shaking, even Sam's voice had been filtered out, all he could hear; all he could focus on was her soft sweet voice. 'John,' and he shuddered as she said his name, 'John, please don't do this, not now. Our boys they need you. John, look at them. Sam's scared half out of his mind right now, he's worried about his brother and he's afraid of you doing the same thing to him. John, please, let it go for now. Let it go for them. Calm Sam down, help him get Dean inside. Look after Dean, make sure he's taken care of, make sure their both taken care of; then and only then can you give into the quilt, the shame. John, please can you do this for me? Can you do this for them?'

'Yeah, Winchester, that's right listen to the little lady. Ignore the fact that your son's action's today could have dire consequences if left unchecked. You know all to well the kind of havoc that kind of insolence can wreak if it pops up during a battle. You remember don't you, the lives that can be lost when one soldier refuses to follow orders, to respect his commander. You do, DON'T YOU,' John visibly flinched and squeezed his eyes tight. Truth was he did remember and dammit it was because of that memory he rode his boys, especially Dean so hard; because, if left unchecked it wouldn't be just any old soldier who would lose his life, no it would be one or both of his boys.

That last thought hit John and it hit him hard. 'My boys,' he thought, 'Oh, god, what have I done?' He looked over to Sam and then let his eyes drop to Dean. The sight of his son's bruised and battered face snapped him out of his shock and spurred him into action. He reached out to check Dean, much the same way Sam had when he felt his hand being pushed away. John swallowed hard and looked at Sam noting the way his youngest had protectively postured himself between his father and his brother.

'Yeah, Mary, he sure doesn't look to afraid of me right now,' John thought to himself and he would have sworn he heard Mary reply, 'Well, not now, John, he's watching out for Dean, but trust me he is.' John's shoulders slumped when had he allowed himself to stop being a father and turned into the creature he had become? 'You know when Johnny-boy. You know when. Remember, it was when you had come back from that hunt to find that Shtriga straddling Sam. Dean had really dropped the ball on that one. You swore then that the easy days were over. Dean was going to learn to follow your orders and show you proper respect no matter how he felt about it and you swore that you would do whatever it took. Whatever, it took even if it meant laying him flat. Remember, Johnny?'

John dropped his face in his hands. He remembered, he also remembered all the times Dean had been left hurting from more than just a cruel word here and there. His mind flashed images like a movie projector and he watched in horror his transformation from loving father to cruel drill instructor. He watched as Dean had looked at him with his deep green eyes full of fear and, 'wait it can't be, can it?' John thought, unconditional love.

John reached out again to touch Dean and again Sam slapped his hand away; this time John didn't pull back. "Sam," he said making sure he kept voice controlled, soothing, "Sam, please, I need to check him." John looked at Sam and took in the way he had defiantly set his jaw. Shaking his head he reached out for Sam and flinched as his youngest shied away.

John dropped his hand and continued in the same calm voice, "Sam, I understand, believe me I do and I promise we'll talk later, but right now I need you to help me with your brother. I don't need you to fight me on this, please. I'm going to lift him up and carry him into the house," John raised his hand when Sam made to protest. "Sammy, please right now the important thing is getting your brother inside where I can take a better look at him. I'm sorry son, I really am."

"You're sorry? You're sorry? Don't tell me dad. Tell Dean. What the hell were you thinking," Sam exclaimed his nostrils flaring a tell-tale sign that he was well beyond angry.

John took in a deep breath, "I wasn't," he reached out placed a hand on Sam's shoulder and felt his heart flutter when he didn't pull away.

Sam nodded and looked at Dean who had started to stir and let out a low moan. His long lashes fluttered and slowly his eyes cracked open, another moan passing his lips as his eyes were assaulted by the now setting sun's rays. He turned his head towards his brother when Sam said his name. He tried to push himself up only to find a hand gentle, yet firm, placed on his shoulder stopping him.

Dean turned his head towards his dad. "Dad," he said his voice sounding much younger than his twenty-two years. "What happened? One minute we're heading inside and the next," Dean stopped as he recalled what happened.

John watched as Dean's eyes grew wide, 'Damn Winchester you are a first rate jackass aren't you' he thought then to Dean he said, "It's alright Dean, I got you. I'm sorry son. Let's get you inside; get a good look at you and then you, me and Sammy can all have a little talk. Sound good?"

Dean nodded. John felt Dean's body tense as he lifted him from the ground. John's heart felt as if a stake had been driven through it, 'My boy's scared of me and it's all my fault. It's all my fault.'

Almost as if he had read his father's thoughts Dean softly spoke, "Dad, I'm sorry. It's my fault. I should have…"

John cut him off, his voice thick with emotion, "No, Dean, this is my fault, it's all on me. It's all on me." Leaving no room for more discussion, John carried his oldest into the house while his youngest trailed behind throwing daggers at his father's back with his eyes.

John gently laid Dean down on the old sofa in the living room, making sure he positioned the throw pillows that adorned it behind his son's head in an effort to make him comfortable. Wincing in sympathy as the boy hissed in pain, John pulled back and turned his attention to Sam.

Sam stood behind his dad, arms crossed firmly over his chest, with his eyes still throwing daggers at the man. John, sighed, he knew from the way Sam was standing that he was in for a fight, and this time there was nobody to blame but himself. He drew in a deep breath and steeled himself for the impending storm, and true to form Hurricane Sammy didn't disappoint.

"What the Hell, dad? What were you thinking," the eighteen year old ground out, "Were you even thinking? Geez, dad you could have hurt him real bad. What's to say you didn't? I mean you hit him hard and he had already hit his head on the ground more times than I could count…"

Dean's voice broke softly through his little brother's tirade, "Yeah, well at least I hit the one part of my body where the least damage could be done."

Sam stood still, in stunned silence, then he let loose again, "Oh very funny Dean. Ha ha, yeah, you're a laugh riot, alright. You didn't see what I did; from where I was standing it looked like dad was out to do some damage…"

"You're right, Sam I didn't see what you saw," Dean interrupted again this time his voice held more of an edge, "but, I felt it and from where I was standing, it didn't feel any different than any other training. I was sloppy, Sammy, dad was just making sure I'm prepared for the upcoming hunt."

"Oh, ok, well, yeah then everything's fine. Ok, I'd buy that, but care to explain to me what the last punch was all about? Huh? I'm waiting. You weren't training then! You were heading inside, so.." Sam huffed out. He placed his hands on his hips and stood there waiting for an answer.

John had stood silent through this exchange, to shocked to speak, but one look at his oldest and he could tell that he was hurting and John couldn't let it go on any longer. Putting his hand on Dean's shoulder to quiet him; John addressed his youngest, "Sam, you're right. I was rougher than I should have been with Dean; and, yes I was out to hurt him. I was angry and I was taking it out on him. That was wrong; I know. And, I completely lost it when we were coming inside. He said some things to me that hit home. His words hit me so hard and I was pissed that he was right. It didn't matter to me that he was right as much as the fact that he was being insolent with me. My first instinct was to knock it out of him and that's what I did."

John drew in a shuddering breath; he found it difficult to look at his oldest; to see the pain that his spoken admission brought to his boy's oh so expressive eyes. 'Damn, Winchester you are a first class bastard, you know that don't you?' he thought to himself.

Sam took a menacing step towards his dad, his hands clenched into fists. His heart was racing and beat against his chest as fear and anger raged internally for control. His dad had admitted to deliberately hurting Dean. Sam barely managed to control himself, the drive to rip his dad's cold heart out of his chest almost as strong as his sense of self preservation. But, in the end self preservation won out and he backed away.

"Well, we know who'll never be up for father of the year now, don't we," having said that Sam turned and stormed out of the house.

Recognizing the dark flash Dean saw in his father's eyes he reached out and grabbed the older man's arm as he moved to follow after Sam. Shaking his head, Dean softly said, "Let him go dad. You're both worked up and if you go after him now nothing good will come of it."

John stopped and looked, really looked, at Dean; he saw the pain both physical and emotional in the boy's eyes and he knew then what he needed to do. He made to go outside and felt Dean's grip tighten on his arm. He didn't look back at his son he simply said, "Dean it's alright, I'm just gonna go get the first aid kit from the car so I can check you over, get you cleaned up. I promise I won't go after Sam. I'll leave him be."

John gently pried Dean's hand from his arm and went to the car. Opening the trunk he reached inside and pulled the emergency kit from where it rested. His attention was drawn to a worn out photograph that had been hidden under the kit. Reaching a shaky hand out, he gently picked up the picture and felt his heart drop as he gazed upon the image of his family in a happier time.

Staring back at him from the faded image was Mary, a very young Dean and a smiling baby Sam. John felt a lump grow in his throat and tears sting the corner of his eyes. A sad smile adorned his lips and his head and shoulders dropped.

"Mary," John quietly said, "How did things go so wrong? When was it decided that our family was the one to go through all this? Who in their infinite wisdom decided that our boys deserved this kind of pain?"

Sam watched as his father put the photo back in the car's trunk, closed the lid and headed back to the house with the first aid kit. He wanted to feel for his dad, to understand that the man was hurting, but he couldn't as his dad's confession of deliberately hurting Dean still rang in his ears.


	8. Chapter 8

Sam took off for the wooded area behind the house they were staying in. He found that the longer he stayed in the same vicinity as his dad the more his anger grew. The man had confessed to deliberately hurting Dean and Dean had stood up for him. Sam shook his head; he would never understand the unyielding loyalty his brother had for their father or for their father's twisted need for revenge.

The further he walked into the woods the heavier his chest began to feel. His anger started to abate and a new emotion took up residence, guilt. He knew that even though he hadn't been the one to physically hurt his older sibling and Dean had agreed to go along with his plans, some of the blame still lie with him.

Sam suspected that John had somehow found out the real reason he had been held after and therefore had deduced that his boys had lied to him again, that had to be it; he couldn't think of anything else that could have caused his dad to get so mad.

Sam kicked at the ground and shouted out in frustration. His hands clenched into fists and he hit the tree closest to him. For eighteen years he had lived under the tyrannical rule of his father. For eighteen years he had been dragged from town to town, state to state without so much as a thought given to what he wanted or needed. For eighteen years his true self had been kept hidden under a façade of fake names and histories, but soon it would all end; soon he would break free from his fathers tyrannical rule and be free to be who he truly is.

Sam sank to the ground, exhaustion sinking in from the day's events and the emotions that had coursed through him. He leant his head back against the tree, closed his eyes and before he knew it he was out. He stayed there, asleep, for a few hours until his brother came looking for him.

Dean could tell that his dad really felt remorseful over what had happened, but then again he always did. Dean could never really fault his father that would have been wrong. He understood the pressure that his dad carried on his shoulders. He understood the loss that his dad still felt and the drive for revenge that fueled him. He understood and felt it his job to ease some of that anyway he could.

Dean admired his dad. He admired the way he looked out for both he and Sam. He admired the way his dad did whatever it took to protect the innocent and those around them. He honestly believed that his dad was and would always be a hero. Sure there were times when he fell a little short, but those were few and far between, like when he hit Sam.

Dean sat up and looked at his watch. The light from the outside had turned dark and there still wasn't any sign of Sam. Casting a quick look at his sleeping dad, Dean debated whether or not to wake him and tell him that Sam hadn't come back yet.

Having decided it best to let his dad sleep, he slowly swung his legs around so his feet were firmly planted on the floor and carefully stood up. He waited until his balance leveled off then went outside to look for Sam.

The trail Sam left wasn't that hard to find and he followed it until 10 minutes later he had located his errant sibling sound asleep, his back against the tree that he had, just a few hours ago, punched.

Dean took in his brothers tear stained face and his cut up hands and any resentment he may have been holding towards him faded and turned to concern. He walked over and stood next to the little brat he loved so much and tapped him with the toe of his boot. When his brother failed to rouse he tapped him again, harder, and called his name.

Sam came to with a start and confused eyes darted around taking in his surroundings until they landed on Dean and his mind registered that it was Dean and not some supernatural threat that had woken him up.

Dean smiled at Sam, "Time to wake up there sleepy head. We need to get back before dad wakes up and notices that we're both gone."

"What, huh," Sam asked confused, still not having woken up fully enough to realize that he was sitting on the ground in a woods with his back against a tree.

"What didn't you understand there sleeping beauty," Dean asked not in any mood for any games, "We need to get back before he realizes we're both gone. He's cooled off and I don't know about you, but I really don't want to piss him off again. So what you say you get up and we start walking towards the house?"

Sam nodded and stood. He went to rub the sleep from his eyes but stopped when he saw his hands. The sight of his hands brought his mind back to clarity and the emotions that had driven him to hit the tree came flooding back. "No!"

Dean stopped and turned back. Sam's outburst surprising him, "Come again?"

"I said no. I'm not going back and neither are you," Sam stated matter-of-factorly, "He doesn't deserve us Dean. He doesn't deserve you. Dad has not and will never appreciate us. We're nothing more than soldiers to him. He doesn't love us. I mean if he did would he treat you the way he does?"

"Sam, we've been through this already. Dad does love us; he just has a different way of showing it…." Dean started to say before Sam cut him off.

"So, you call beating your twenty-year old son into unconsciousness showing love? Seriously, Dean the man is as cold as an iceberg. The only thing he cares about is his vendetta against the thing that killed mom. We are nothing more than a means to an end for him."

Dean let out a heavy sigh, his head, hell his entire body hurt and all he wanted was to get back before their dad woke up and missed them. He felt himself listing to the side and reached out to steady himself against the tree stump he was standing by.

Sam noticed his brother's strength waning and silently cursed himself. Now obviously wasn't the time to be having this little tizzy. Dean needed to get back to the house and he was going to make sure he made it back. He would do that for Dean, but not for their dad.

Sam stepped up to Dean and wrapped an arm around his waist offering his support and together they headed back towards the house they would be spending this weekend at. Dean could feel the anger Sam still felt. He could feel the storm that was brewing and he prayed that they would all somehow make it out alive.

John stirred, the dull ache in his neck rousing the man from his exhaustion induced sleep. He placed one of his rough and calloused hands on the spot where the ache was most pronounced and began to gently rub at the kink that had formed there.

"Damn, this chair is almost as uncomfortable as one of those plastic hospital waiting room chairs," he groused, "Hope the couch's better for Dean." He stood up from the well worn recliner and stretched out his stiff muscles.

He ran a hand down his face and looked out the window at the fading daylight wondering just how long he had been asleep. Looking down at his watch he frowned when he read the time. His frown deepened when he realized the house was quiet, to quiet.

John looked at the couch he had laid his eldest boy on and it was at that moment he noticed Dean was gone. He checked the house and when he didn't find Dean anywhere he began to worry. He checked to make sure the car was still parked outside and thought that checking the surrounding area was a good idea.

He came upon the same trail Dean had and was about to follow it when both his sons stepped out from the woods. John noticed how Sam had his arm wrapped around Dean's waist offering his brother support.

He hurried over to where his sons were and wrapped an arm around Dean's waist and took his weight from Sam. Sam stepped away and watched his dad help his brother back to the house.

John noticed his youngest hadn't been following them and he turned back to address him. "Sam, what's the hold up? Get a move on, son. We need to get Dean inside," John looked at Sam and noted the tear stains on his cheeks, the dark shadows under his eyes and the way his hands were cut up.

He also noticed the way Sam looked at him, his eyes full of anger and resentment; the love and hero worship that had once shone so brightly in his boys hazel eyes having been replaced with contempt and loathing. 'What have I done,' John thought, 'my son really does hate me and there's no one to blame but myself.'

Softening his tone John tried again, "Sam, hey, come on, let's get Dean back inside. Once he's back on the couch I'll take a look at your hands. What ya say?"

Sam nodded and quietly followed his dad back into the old run-down house. Now wasn't the time to tell his dad how he really felt. No, he would make sure Dean was taken care of and then he would tell his dad just where he could shove his despotic way of doing things.

A smirk played across Sam's face. 'Now there's a word dad wouldn't know the meaning of even though he practices it every day. I wish he could appreciate how important my education is to me. I wish he could appreciate me for me,' the smirk left Sam's face as quickly as it had appeared, 'yeah, like that'll ever happen.'

John led Dean over to the couch and helped him to lie back down. He grabbed the tattered blanket from the back of the couch and tucked it, carefully, around his son's shivering body.

"Damn, Dean, what the hell," John questioned a bit more harshly than he had intended, "Just what the hell were you thinking?"

Dean couldn't look at his dad; he trained his eyes on his hands and refused to look at his father's worried face. John gently placed his hand under Dean's chin and lifted it so he could look him in the eye. "Son, please, I don't understand what you were doing out there. You're in no shape to be out traipsing in the woods. What could've been so important that you would risk further injuring yourself?"

"Me, dad, it was me that was so important," Sam chimed in. "I went into the woods to cool off and fell asleep. Dean must have woke up and noticed I wasn't back yet. He got worried and came looking for me. What I don't understand is why he came looking for me and not," Sam choked on the last word and couldn't finish his sentence. He cast his eyes to the floor, the pain he felt at what he perceived to be another example of John's lack of caring came through loud and clear.

"Sammy, dad was asleep when I woke up. I decided to go out looking for you instead of waking him up. It's not that dad didn't want to; it's that he didn't know. I didn't see the point in waking him when I'm perfectly capable of looking for my pain in the ass little brother on my own," Dean answered Sam's unfinished question.

"Uh, ok, yeah sure right, you're perfectly capable," Sam quipped back, "That's why you needed me to carry your ass back. Geez, Dean you don't have to do everything you know. Any other time I would agree with you that you could have handled this, but with the shape you're in now you should have woke dad up."

"Sam's right," John replied a smile crossing his lips at the look of surprise Sam gave him, "You should have woken me up." John raised a hand to stop Dean's intended protest and continued, "Don't. You know we're right. I didn't want to have to do this but I guess I need to. Dean, you're not to leave that couch for the rest of the night. The only exception being if you need to use the bathroom is that clear. This is a direct order, Dean, I mean it."

Dean nodded then couldn't keep himself from saying, "Alright, but what about Sammy's hands? Who's gonna patch 'em up?"

"I will," John said looking at Dean like he had suddenly sprouted another head. 'That's my boy,' he thought shaking his head, 'Always thinking of us and our needs before himself and his.'

John patted his oldest on the shoulder and turned his attention to his youngest, "Come on Sam let's have a look at yours hands."

Sam followed his dad into the kitchen and sat down at the table. He looked at his hands and grimaced at the torn flesh on his knuckles. 'This is gonna hurt,' he thought and groaned when he realized that it was gonna hurt twice as bad since his dad was patching him up.

John took one of Sam's hands in his and gently washed the blood and dirt off them before he applied some antibiotic cream to the cuts and carefully wrapped them with a gauze bandage. He repeated his action with Sam's other hand. When he had finished with both hands and had cleaned up he sat down next to Sam.

"Sam, son I think we need to talk," John started only to be cut off by Sam.

"Not now. Please, not now," Sam said, "It's late and I'm tired. I'm going to go check on Dean then turn in." Sam stood up and went back to the living room. He grabbed his sleeping bag, spread it out on the floor in front of the couch, crawled inside and fell asleep.

John stood in the entrance way between the living room and the kitchen and watched his sons as they slept. "Gotta do something Winchester and do it fast," he mumbled softly to himself, "or you're gonna loose him for good."


	9. Chapter 9

The scent of fresh brewed coffee brought the sleeping hunter slowly out of his slumber. The light that filtered in through the thin living room curtains assaulted his eyes and he hissed at the throbbing pain that formed behind them. He draped his arm over his eyes trying to block out the light. "Damn. What the hell? I feel like I was beat over the head by an iron skillet or something," he muttered.

He tried to push himself up, but stopped when the throb in his head turned into a sharp jabbing pain. He let out a grunt and blew his breath out between clenched teeth. He placed his hands over his face and tears of pain came unbidden to his eyes. "Ah, son of a," he gasped. His breathing became labored and he pushed his palms into his eyes trying to dampen the pain.

"Or something," his brother's voice sounded beside him. He felt his brother's strong hands on him as he gently pulled him into a sitting position.

Carefully he opened his eyes and squinted at his brother; the way he had said 'or something', had his trouble on the home front senses tingling. He took the glass of water handed to him, nodded a quick thanks and took a sip relishing the feel of the cool liquid as it soothed his dry throat.

Cautiously he addressed his brother, "Or something," he asked his eyebrows lifting with the question. "What do you mean or something?"

"Seriously, Dean. Really," Sam spat, "You know damn well what I mean. It wasn't any iron pan hitting you on the head it was the front yard and that nice little punch dad landed on your chin last night."

Dean would have rolled his eyes but even just thinking about it hurt. Instead he opted to ask if Sam wouldn't mind getting him some coffee and a couple pain killers to take with said coffee. He should have known rolling his eyes would have hurt way less then the tongue lashing he got from Sam.

Holding his hands up in defeat Dean conceded that coffee and pain killers weren't a good mix when dealing with a head injury and that yes he would eat something before taking the pain meds to soften the effects they would have on his stomach's lining. Sam left the room grousing about ungrateful older brothers while Dean sat on the couch complaining about pain in the ass little brothers.

A hearty laugh floated into the room from the hallway and Dean turned his head to see Caleb leaning against the entranceway his hands on his hips, a broad smile on his face as he laughed at the brothers. "Gee, Dean when did you and Sam decide to get married," he teased.

"Ha, ha, very funny," Dean replied, "What are you doing here? I mean, I thought you weren't coming in until tomorrow."

"Yeah, well I finished my last hunt sooner than expected and called your dad. He told me that you guys had come here to do some work for Jobe. Told him I'd be right along to help out; think it's a good thing Jobe's doing here, fixing this place up so hunters can have a place to stay when they're in the area," Caleb's face turned serious before he continued, "What the hell happened to you? I asked Johnny, but he was pretty vague on the details."

Dean looked down. This wasn't going to be a good day for a headache he could tell. He offered up his most sincere sheepish grin and answered, "Not much to tell. I was my usual smart assed self, mouthed off to the wrong guy and he decided to teach me a lesson."

"Yeah, you could say that's what happened," Sam huffed as he walked by Caleb. He handed Dean some toast, a bottle of water and the pain meds.

Caleb looked from Dean to Sam then back to Dean. He could tell something was going on and that he probably wasn't going to get a straight answer out of either of them. He opened his mouth to say something, but John choose that moment to come in from outside carrying a load of drywall.

John looked at Caleb, then Sam and then Dean. He could see by the look on Dean's face that Caleb had asked what had happened. He could tell by the look on Sam's that Dean had lied. And, he could tell by the way Caleb stood staring at them he hadn't believed what Dean had told him.

"Hey, Johnny, why don't you let me help you carry that load back to the bedrooms," Caleb asked taking some of the drywall and motioning for John to lead the way.

Once Dean was sure his dad and their friend were out of earshot he turned to Sam. The pain in his head had intensified with the tension that had built in the room. As if that wasn't bad enough his body had decided to add its own special chorus to the symphony of pain he had been feeling.

"Gee, Sammy you think maybe next time you could just get a clothes line and air all our dirty laundry on it. I don't know, you could even rent a neon sign or something pointing to it so no one would miss it," Dean said his voice heavy with sarcasm.

"Hey, you know that's a good idea," Sam snapped back his voice just as heavy with sarcasm, "Cause, I want everyone to know that my grown brother gets his ass handed to him by our dad. Yeah, Dean, that ought to sit well with everyone we know."

"Ouch, little brother, don't hold back how you really feel. I hadn't realized that this was so hard on you, seeing as I'm the one hurting here. You know a way to prevent me getting my ass handed to me. Well, do you," Dean barked out; his anger pushing the aches and pains down enough as to be forgotten, "You could stop pushing dad and sticking me in the middle of it. That would help," having said that Dean dropped his head back on the pillow and let his body sink back into the couch.

He was spent. He ached all over and all he wanted to do was sleep, to close his eyes and lose himself in a dream that involved him and some sweet little honey; but, Sam had other plans.

"You know you can be a real dick sometimes," Sam shot back. He stood and walked to the door turning to look at his brother before he opened it and walked out. He caught his brother's eyes with his and before he shut the door he said, "I never asked you to, you just always did. I thought you understood. I thought you cared."

Sam slammed the door shut, causing Dean to cringe. "Way to go Winchester," he mumbled. Dean sighed and pushed himself up. He felt the room sway and closed his eyes until it steadied. He stood up, shuffled to the door and was about to open it when his dad's voice stopped him.

John, who had been doing his best to deflect Caleb's questions heard Dean shout and the front door slam. He looked to Caleb, "Guess we'll have to finish this discussion later," he said and then took off towards the living room; Caleb hot on his heels.

John rounded the corner just in time to see his oldest standing at the door looking ready to go outside. The way his boy swayed and the way he stood hunched over had John calling out in alarm. Dean heard his father and without realizing it he curled in on himself, in what appeared to be an attempt to protect himself of some implied threat to his person.

Caleb scowled he had his answer Johnny was at it again. He walked around John, placed one hand on the small of Dean's back, the other gently on the younger man's shoulder and led him back to the couch. After he got Dean to sit back down and had assured the young man that he would look for his brother he turned to John.

Caleb's eyes flashed, "Johnny, you and me are gonna finish that little talk we were having; but, right now I'm gonna go looking for Sam. You stay here with Dean make sure he stays down, rests. We got that hunt coming up and I know how much he wants to go." Before John could reply, Caleb had gone out slamming the door behind him.

Caleb let the door slam behind. "Damn, Winchesters, they put the dys in dysfunctional that's for damn sure. I'm beginning to see what Bobby's been saying," he grumbled as his eyes scanned the surrounding area looking for Sam. He heard him before he saw him. A loud thwacking noise had the older hunter stepping off the front porch and heading to the left side of the house.

Caleb found the young man, ax in hand, chopping wood. He watched as Sam picked a log up from the pile, set it on an old stump, lined the ax up, raised the ax in the air and in one fluid motion split the log in two. 'Kid is defiantly lethal,' Caleb thought as he cleared his throat announcing his presence.

Sam ignored Caleb and kept splitting the wood. He needed the physical release of his anger that came with every connection of the ax meeting the log. This should have been a good time for him. He was graduating in two weeks and the world should be his to conquer. He should be hanging out with his friends studying for the finals that were set to start on Monday or better yet making plans for the Prom.

He shouldn't have had to ask his brother to help him convince his dad to let him go to the dance. He shouldn't have had to sneak behind his father's back and get Caleb to agree to come so he could force his dad's hand. He shouldn't have had to stand by and watch while his dad took out his anger and frustration out on Dean. He shouldn't have to worry about how his dad was going to react when he told him he was going to off to college. He shouldn't have to hunt monsters if he didn't want to.

Sam grabbed another log, set it on the old stump and threw the ax at a nearby tree instead of bringing it down on the log; his frustration having gotten the better of him. The ax flipped end over end; by the time it reached the tree it had righted itself and the head buried itself deep in the tree.

Caleb let out a low appreciative whistle at the ease with which the ax had become stuck in the tree. Then he found himself jumping back when the log that had been sitting on the stump flew in his direction. "SAM," he shouted, thankful that it was the log and not the ax that had been thrown his way.

Sam sat on the sold stump and dropped his head into his hands. The dam finally broke and eighteen years of pent up rage broke free. A low guttural growl passed over his lips growing in volume as it hit the air, turning into a howl that caused his friend to shudder.

"I'm not like them," Sam shouted, "I don't like this life. This isn't what I want. Why can't he understand? Why can't he let me go?" Sam looked at Caleb and the anguish he saw in the younger man's eyes caused his chest constrict.

"Damn, you Johnny," Caleb muttered as he took a tentative step towards Sam, "Damn, you for what you've done to your boys."

Caleb placed his hand on Sam's shoulder and felt the tremors that racked his young friend's body. He knew the life these boys had led; dragged from town to town with no real place to set down roots. Forced to live a life of constant lies and fears; fear of being caught, fear of being killed, fear of being separated, and a fear that this is all there was.

Caleb had been amazed at the ease with which Dean had come to accept this life and in fact had come to embrace it. To him and many others Dean seemed to have been created for this. Where others had withered, Dean flourished. He was for all intents and purposes a natural born hunter.

But, Sam; Sam, was different. He had skill and abilities and had in his own right grown into a rather accomplished hunter, but, he wasn't meant for this life. Everyone, but John, could see it. It wasn't that Sam was too good for it, he just wasn't meant for it.

Caleb knelt in front Sam, placed his hand under his chin and lifted his head up so that he could look the younger man in the eye. Keeping his voice calm he spoke, "Sam, what's going on here? Talk to me, please." When all he got in response was a grunt and a shake of the head, he persisted. "Look, Sam I know something's going on. I need you to talk to me. Maybe I can help."

"Yeah, sure maybe you can help," Sam snorted, "The only way you could help is if you could make me anyone's son but his. I can't live like this, Caleb, I can't. I want to leave, get away, but I know that he'll just follow me and drag me back. I've tried talking to him, but he won't listen. Then there's the times when he gets so angry that…" Sam's eyes grew wide and he clamped his mouth shut. He had almost said too much.

Caleb nodded, he knew full well what Sam was about to say. He had witnessed John's anger first hand a few years back; he smiled as he remembered the look of shock on John's face when he had knocked the man down after he saw him hit his oldest in a fit of anger.

He had hoped that the talking to he, Jim and Bobby had given John had taken care of this little issue but it turns out it hadn't. 'Guess, I'll have to have another talk with good ole Johnny won't I,' Caleb thought then turned his attention back to Sam.

"Sam, listen to me. I want you to go inside and get your and your brother's things and bring them out to the car. You hear me," Caleb instructed. "Just do it," he continued on when Sam resisted and said that he and Dean were expected to stay the weekend and help with the house, "Don't worry about your dad I'll take care of him. You just get Dean and head back to the apartment. From what I can see you all need a break from each other. Your dad and I'll stay here work and on the house for Jobe and you and your brother can go back to the apartment; you can look after Dean while he rests up.

Your dad and I will be back in time to get Dean so he can go on the hunt with us," Caleb grabbed Sam's chin forcing the kid to look him in the eye; "I'm serious Sam. You need time away from each other. Your dad and I will stay here for the week. I promise neither you nor Dean will get in any trouble for this. Now go. I'll be right behind you."

Sam stood from the stump and headed inside doing exactly as he had been instructed. He wasn't sure what Caleb had planned but he prayed that his friend had been right with his assumption that neither he nor Dean would get in trouble for this. 


	10. Chapter 10

John's jaw tightened when he realized what Sam was doing and he started to say something when he noticed Caleb standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest blatantly daring John to say something, anything.

John could tell by the look Caleb was giving him that Sam hadn't told him anything but that he had figured it out and that the best thing for him to do at this moment was to let his boys go back and for him to stay with Caleb.

Dean had protested he was afraid this meant that he would be left out of the upcoming hunt but after both John and Caleb reassured him that wasn't the case and John had ended up making it an order, he relented and followed Sam out to the car.

John stood on the porch and watched as his boys drove away, it was like his worst fear had come to life and they were leaving him. He felt Caleb wrap an arm around his shoulders and lead him inside.

Caleb had watched the boys drive off and knew that it was killing John to be away from them. He knew that his friend worried that they would leave him one day and he knew that if John kept going like he was that they would, or at least Sam would.

He wrapped his arm around his friend's shoulders, led him inside and then dropped him with a punch to the face. He stood over his friend as he sat in stunned silence on the floor, "I think it's time that you and I had a talk about your boys Johnny and the way you've been handling things with them."

Sam jumped when his brother's voice clipped through the silence. "I'm serious Sam; you better hope that whatever Caleb's doing doesn't get me banned from this hunt. I've really worked hard on this one. I was really looking forward to going. If your being a princess and having your little hissy fit causes Caleb to piss dad off to the point where he makes me stay behind I swear.."

Slamming on the breaks and skidding to a halt on the side of the road, Sam put the car in park and turned on his older sibling. "What? You swear what, Dean? Dammit, why can't you see what dad's doing isn't right? I didn't say anything to Caleb. I didn't have to. This isn't the first time he's witnessed you being laid up because of dad. Hell, it isn't even the second or the third," Sam drew in a sharp breath "I'm sure it won't be the last. But, I do remember what happened the last time this happened and it wasn't just Caleb who lit into dad, Pastor Jim and Bobby did as well. Dean, he can't keep doing this. There are days when I'm more afraid of dad doing you in than whatever you've been hunting. This has been going on for years. I guess I was more than happy to play ignorant, but not anymore. He's gotten worse Dean. I don't know why, but he has. And what's even worse than that is the fact that you refuse to fight back. You just take it. Why?"

Sam slumped back against the leather of the bench seat. He was tired the past few days had been tough and he felt like he was running on empty. The constant fighting with his dad and constant worry about his brother were wearing him thin. He could hear Dean's voice in the back of his mind telling him to man up and accept things as they were. That life would be easier if he would just do that. But, he couldn't. He couldn't roll over and accept things as they were because; to be honest, things as they were weren't working.

Dean didn't answer Sam right away. He let the silence hang between them. He took his time; he wanted to make sure he had Sam's attention when he spoke. After a few moments Sam started to squirm, the wait having begun to get to him; letting Dean know now was the time to speak.

"Sam," he started his voice deliberately low and soft forcing the younger boy to listen, "We've been through this. He needs me, us. He's been through so much. He's lost so much. I don't see the point in aggravating the situation. Besides, fighting dad doesn't do any good. I've learned that the hard way over the years. It's just easier, better, to go along with it. He doesn't mean anything by it. He needs a release and I'm there; that's all there is to it.

He loves us Sammy, I know it. He doesn't say it, and he sure as hell doesn't openly show it, but he does. If you knew what to look for you'd see it. It's in the way he needs to control everything. He needs to make sure we're alright, safe. If that means knocking me around then," Dean shrugged. He was growing tired. He was beginning to hurt again and all he wanted to do was get to a bed and lay down, "Sam, look I'm not saying its right. I'm just saying I understand. And, yeah, he's gotten worse, but think about it, so have you. Ever since you hit puberty you've been pushing dad's buttons. I think you like the fighting more than you let on. The only problem is that you don't think about the consequences and the fact that you, not to mention me, have to live with them. I know you're restless Sam. I know you don't want to do this. But, I also know there's no way out, at least as far as dad can see. Dammit, Sam please, can't you ease up just a little.

Throw the old man a bone or something. He's lost. He's been lost. Your pushing isn't helping. I can feel you're ready to make a break. If I can feel it so can he. He's lashing out. He's not reasonable. He's," Dean found himself choking on the next words, "he's scared."

Sam's eyes grew at his brother's confession. He couldn't believe that Dean had said their dad was scared. Sam always felt that Dean thought their dad was a god or something. To hear Dean talk one would think he thought their dad walked on water and wasn't afraid of anything; and, yet, he had just said their dad was scared.

Sam put the car in drive and pulled off the shoulder back onto the road. He drove for a couple miles in silence, and then he cast a quick glance at Dean. "Yeah, whatever" he said.

John looked up to Caleb, "What the hell," he growled.

Caleb glared at his old friend, "You know damn well what the hell," he ground out.

"I suggest you enlighten me, Caleb," John said as he got to his feet, "because I'm really not sure what just happened here or why."

"Well, if you'd listen to someone other than yourself you would know. You big blustering bag of wind. I swear Johnny, you're so blind to everyone and everything around you unless you're surrounded by something supernatural then you're well aware of what's going on.

You blow into every situation tossing out demands and thinking only of how it will affect you that you lose sight of what's really important. Dammit, Johnny, just once I wish you'd stop and pay attention before you act. You're gonna lose them Johnny. The tighter you hold on the easier it will be for them to slip away; for them to want to, especially Sam.

I know you're scared I know the more you dig and uncover the more it looks like something has its sights on your boy, on Sam. But, you have to ease up. Either that or tell them what's going on," Caleb let out a heavy sigh when John shook his head, "Then you better prepare yourself for the inevitable, Sam's going to walk away. He's already ready to go. He's just mapping out his plan. You know it's true. You know it.

As for Dean, well no matter what you do to him he'll stay. You've got him convinced that you're god and that you aren't capable of doing anything wrong. But, we know better than that, don't we Johnny? Yeah, sure we do," Caleb hissed out when his friend suddenly found the floor an interesting place to look at, "So what he'd do now to warrant the beating you dished out? Kid looks like hell and he feels like it to. I thought you had agreed never to lay a hand on either of them after that time Jim, Bobby and I made you see the light.

You don't deserve the love and respect that kid gives you. He looks up to you and I bet you got him convinced that he deserved every lick you gave him. He's not some animal for you to kick around. He's not some soldier for you to bark orders at. He's your son and by all that's holy a much better man than you. You. Don't. Deserve. Him."

John's shoulders slumped and he leant heavily against the wall, the weight of his friends words hitting him harder than any fist ever could. He knew, on some level, that what Caleb had said was right. He was holding to tight; but, Caleb didn't understand why.

John knew Caleb was right about needing to tell the boys what he had come across regarding their mom and Sam, but he didn't have enough to tell them anything concrete and he didn't want to needlessly worry them. The more he uncovered the more his fear and uncertainty grew. The more his fear and uncertainty grew so did his temper.

He knew he wasn't being fair, but until he had more to go on the boys would have to tow the line and trust in his leadership. That was just how it had to be. John drew himself up and pushed off the wall.

He fixed Caleb with a defiant stare, crossed his arms over his chest and growled out, "I don't remember asking for your advice on how to deal with my boys Caleb. What goes on between me and them, well that's our business and not yours. You'd do well to remember that."

"Yeah, sure Johnny. You're right like always. Sorry," Caleb bit out, "I stepped over the line." Caleb took a step forward, another swing at his old friend and once again caught the man off guard, "But, it's a line I'm gonna keep crossing. Those boys are all of ours. We helped you raise them. We all love them. I'm telling you Winchester, you keep hurting them boys and you'll have a pack of angry uncles on your heels. Do I make myself clear?"

John sat on the floor, a hand clamped over his now bleeding nose and nodded. He took Caleb's hand with his free hand and allowed the younger man to help him up. "Doesn't feel good does it," Caleb asked, "Here, let's get some ice on it. Get the bleeding to stop and than let's get some work done around here. Whatchya say?"


	11. Chapter 11

Sam stood nervously in front of the mirror that sat atop the old dresser he and Dean shared. He pulled the black vest that had come with his tuxedo on over the freshly pressed white dress shirt he had just donned and the black tuxedo jacket over both the vest and shirt. He stood back and scrutinized his appearance. He startled when he heard someone clear their throat from behind him.

He turned around; his cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and saw his older sibling casually leaning against the doorframe. Dean's arms were crossed loosely over his chest and a smile that promised teasing adorned his lips, but it was the look in his eyes that garnered Sam's attention. Dean's eyes sparkled with happiness and pride; like he was watching his son, not his kid brother, getting ready for one of the biggest nights of his life.

"You look good Sammy," Dean stopped and corrected himself, "Sam. You look good Sam. When did you say the limo would be here to get you? It's getting late and I would have thought they would have been here by now; you still have to get Allison. I'm sure her mom will want to take lots and lots of pictures of her little her girl and her date."

Dean pushed off the wall and walked into the room. He had to admit to himself that Sam did in fact look real good. Where a boy had once stood dressed in holey jeans and a thread worn t-shirt, a man now stood dressed in a sleek black tux his once unruly hair having allowed itself to be tamed if only for this night.

Sam's cheeks flushed even redder and he looked at the carpet. "It's not," he whispered.

"Come again," Dean asked not sure if he heard Sam right.

"It's not," Sam repeated louder, "I never called for one. Allison said she would drive us. I'm going to meet her at the corner store, she'll take me back to her house so her mom can take her pictures then she'll drive us to the dance."

"Sam, why didn't you call and arrange for a limo. I know I gave you enough for that," Dean asked already knowing the answer.

Sam shook his head, "Its fine Dean. Really it is. You've already done so much. I can't believe that you had been saving up for months to pay for this night. Seriously, dude how many games of pool did you have to hustle and how many towns over did you have to drive just to get the money around for this suit? I wasn't going to use all the money you gave me. I couldn't. I thought you could use what was left to get yourself something for once."

Dean listened to Sam his heart swelling with pride at the man his brother had become, "Sam, this night is for me. I know I've teased you mercilessly about tonight, but, to be honest I want you to have this. I didn't get to go to mine, hell, I didn't even graduate, so I'm living vicariously through you. You can't let the girl drive. That's not how's it's done, at least not by a Winchester anyway. I tell you what," Dean walked over to where his favorite leather coat sat in a heap on the bed and dug the keys to his precious Impala out of one of the jackets pockets and tossed them to Sam, "take her. I insist. I'm riding with Dad and Caleb tonight and she'll just sit here feeling left out. Think of it as a personal favor. You'll be keeping my favorite girl from feeling neglected."

Sam's eyes lit up and he gave Dean one of his famous dimpled grins, "Thanks, Dean. You're the greatest."

"I know," Dean replied returning his brother's smile, "I hope you remember that when I'm old and instead of a nursing home for retired hunters you take me in and take care of me."

"Thanks, Dean. I mean it man. Thank you," Sam said as he pulled Dean in for a hug, "I guess I should get going. Could you call Allison and tell her I'm on my way?"

"Yeah," Dean answered Sam while he followed him out to the living room. He grabbed Sam's arm and the mood went from light to heavy in a flash, "Sam promise me you'll be careful tonight. I know you can look after yourself, but the wolves were hunting aren't that far from the old cabin you're heading to, they're about five or so miles away. Promise me you'll be vigilant."

"Of course, Dean, I promise," Sam's hazel eyes bore into his brother's green eyes, "Promise me that you'll be careful tonight. Promise me you won't do anything stupid and go and get yourself killed or something like that."

Dean let his hand slide off Sam's arm. "Aww, it's good to know you care", he replied his eyes sparkling as he teased his brother, "when have I ever done anything stupid?"

Sam rolled his eyes and just like that the tension of the past week that had been between he and Dean disappeared like it had never been there. It never ceased to amaze Sam just how strong the bond between he and Dean really was.

Sure the rest of the ride home had been quiet and the week following had been rough, but the bond was always there. He knew that Dean had been hurt deeply both physically and emotionally and needed some time to work through what had happened; for Dean this meant keeping to himself, shutting everyone out until the hurt had been healed over.

Sam had seen the healing begin on that Monday when Dean had picked him up from school and had taken him to the local tailors where Dean had surprised him with the tux and the money he had saved so that Sam could hire a limo. The second sign of healing was that Wednesday when Dean had taken him back to the tailors so they could pick up the tux after the alterations had been completed. And, tonight, well Dean was back to joking with him and even offered to let him use his car, healing complete.

Sam opened the door and stepped out on their apartment's balcony and right into his father. Dean's heart sank as he felt the night's magic dissipate. 'Should have known it was too good to be true,' he thought as he pushed his way outside and in between his dad and brother.

"Here, Sam," Dean said as he handed Sam some money, "Take Allison out for a nice breakfast in the morning. Don't do anything I wouldn't do, which is just about nothing. Have a good time Sam. Be careful. Keep your phone on you and I'll see you in the morning."

"Sam," John began and he felt the tension grew between him and his sons, "you look good, son. Have a good time."

"Thanks," Sam replied and not trusting himself to remain civil if he stuck around, pushed past his dad and headed for the car. When he got down to the parking lot he looked up and noticed that his dad had gone inside but Dean was still standing on the balcony watching him. 'That's my brother,' Sam thought, 'always looking out for me.' He gave Dean a quick wave and jumped into the car.

Turning her over he felt the engine roar to life, he backed her out of the parking space and smiled as he shifted her into drive. He marveled at how it felt like she was gliding over the blacktop of the parking lot and found himself understanding, for the first time, his brother's love for her.

Dean watched as his brother pulled out and headed off in the direction of Allison's house. He went back inside, called Allison, let her know that Sam would be picking her up and headed into the living room where his dad and Caleb had begun the final plans for their upcoming hunt that was to take place later that night.

His stomach clenched as he found himself ripped from the dream like state he had been in while watching Sam doing something as normal as getting ready for the Prom and thrust back into the gritty nightmare that was the reality of his life, hunting evil.  
>"Son," John queried as he took in the expression that his oldest was wearing, "everything ok?"<p>

"Yeah," Dean answered after clearing his throat, "all's good. So what's the plan for tonight?" He shuffled over to the table and looked at the papers his dad and Caleb had scattered about.

John stared at Dean for a few more minutes, not inclined to believe all's good and yet not wanting to push, before he answered, "We figured we'd start at the park, where the last attacks occurred and work our way outward. Caleb's going to cover the north side, I'll cover the center and you'll cover the south side. The park's huge and there's a lot of area to cover so we need to really stay focused.

We think there are probably two or maybe even three wolves that are using this as their feeding grounds. It's unusual but not unheard of for there to be more than one. This is another reason we need to be completely focused on the task at hand, no distractions," John shook his head he could tell that Dean had only been half listening to what he had been saying.

"Dean," John said firmly, "I said we need to stay focused, no distractions while we are out tonight." John sighed, "I get the feeling you're already distracted. What's going on, son?"

"Nothing, dad, really," Dean tried than relented when John gave him the 'I know better' stare, "Alright, you want to know the truth? I'm thinking that maybe Sam has a point sometimes. I mean, look at us, here we are planning a hunting trip, but it's not the usual father/son hunting excursions most go on. No, instead of hunting deer or squirrel we're hunting wolves and not the canine type of wolf; the supernatural kind.

He's right; you know? We are messed up. I can't blame him for wanting something different. And, I don't. I just wish that you two could find some common ground and try to understand each other. It's really hard being stuck in the middle all the time." Dean blew out a breath and waited for the blow-up he was sure was forth-coming. What happened surprised him.

John gently placed a finger under his eldest's chin and raised his face until he could look him square in the eye. His dark eyes softened and a smile ghosted over his lips. His words when he spoke were firm yet void reprimand. "Dean, I'm sorry. I really am," John said, "This past week I've had plenty of time to think and I understand what you are saying. I know I get caught up in the job and I tend to forget what's really important and that's you boys. I'm hard and unforgiving most of the time and without making excuses I want to let you know it's because I'm afraid of what's out there.

I'm afraid of what's waiting in the dark, just itching to take you boys from me. I had toyed with the idea of leaving you both with relatives or close family friends but I couldn't. They didn't believe me about what's out there and I couldn't bear the thought of you both growing up unprepared to face the realities of what lie beneath the surface. I've made mistakes and I'm sure to make more, but I promise that I'll try.

You did a good job with Sam. I really want to thank you for stepping up and doing what I should have. I know you love your brother and want him to have everything he wants and I appreciate how hard you fight for that; how hard you fight to give him that 'normal' he craves.

It's just I know that it can't/won't last and I don't want him to suffer the pain of having and then losing it. This life is hard enough without that added to it. Then, again he is still young and should enjoy as much of life as he can while he can.

I wish I had given you the opportunities you fight so hard to give Sam. I regret you not having the chance to be a kid, to go to your Prom, hell for you even to graduate. It's hard to admit but, watching you succeed with Sam where I failed with you, well that's a big blow to my ego. You've managed to give Sam things I couldn't give you, and for that I am sorry."

"Dad I-I-I," Dean stammered, "it's alright. I know you're doing/have done the best you can. I get it." Dean took a step back and squared his shoulders, "I'm sorry, sir, we have a hunt to get to. You were saying?"

John sighed. The moment had traveled too far into what Dean liked to call 'chick-flick territory' and, as he had so many times before, Dean had shut down. John's heart ached at the way his son had become so efficient at closing off his emotions. He knew he had himself to blame for it, emotions were something that could cloud your judgment and get you killed; so he had insisted his son learn how to cap them, but it didn't change the fact that John had wanted, still wanted more for his son.


	12. Chapter 12

The curse left his lips a moment before the pain shot through his body. He had been looking to his left when he should have been looking right and the large creature had gotten the jump on him. Sharp claws tore through the outer layers of clothing; he had been wearing, and deep into the flesh and muscle beneath.

A rush of warm thick liquid could be felt running down the right side of his body and he started to feel the all too familiar pull of unconsciousness tugging at him. He fought the darkness, pulling on inner reserves, knowing that if he blacked out he stood no chance against the creature.

A shot rang out, the creature screamed and fled off into the night. He heard footsteps beating their way to him, his name being called and he felt strong arms lift him from the hard ground. He wanted to give into the darkness; to let it take him but he couldn't he had to tell the one who was holding him something, something important.

"Dad," the word came out as a muted whisper, blood bubbling across his lips as he spoke. "Dad," he tried again and he reached up weakly grasping his father's arm, "It's headed towards the cabin. It's headed towards Sam." He heard his dad curse and took that as a sign he had been heard. He let go of his dad's arm and gave into the blackness.

John sat holding his son in his arms, rocking back and forth as curse after curse left his lips. Caleb had circled back after he had lost the last wolf's trail and had dropped down beside his two friends. He looked at the older of the two and nodded having understood what needed to be done without any words being said.

Caleb took John's place and he wrapped his arms tightly around the still body John had been holding. He carefully lifted the injured man and positioned him in a fireman's carry. Nodding he said to his friend, "I'll take this one back to the apartment, Johnny. I'll make sure he's taken care of. You just get to your youngest." John clasped the younger man's shoulder and then took off in the direction the creature had fled.

Sam sat in one of the overstuffed chairs that adorned the living room of the cabin that Allison's parents had lent to her and her small group of friends for the night. Allison sat on his lap laughing at some silly joke one of their friends had told. The night had gone better than Sam could have imagined.

They had gone to the little steak house outside of town for dinner and then headed to the Recreation Center and the dance. They danced the night away and Sam found himself thinking less and less about his brother and the hunt and more and more about Allison and how much he really liked her.

He sat one arm wrapped around her waist with her snuggled tight against him. She smelt like jasmine and vanilla. Her hair and skin were remarkably soft; her lips full and inviting. The night was perfect and he hoped against all hope that it didn't have to end.

Sam sighed, who was he kidding, of course it would end; nothing this good would/could ever last. His life would take her away from him, just like it takes everything away from him; unless he got away, far away. The darkness was always there, waiting to creep in, it was just a matter of time.

Allison shifted in his arms; she had felt his sigh. "Sam, what's wrong," she asked.

He looked into her clear blue eyes and his heart fluttered. He wanted to tell her the truth, but he knew he couldn't. In his mind he could see her fleeing from him, casting frightened looks back over her shoulder as she feared this mad-man would be chasing her. So, he did the only thing he could; he lied with just enough of the truth to make it believable.

"It's just I wish this night would never end. It's nice being here alone with you. We'll not alone, alone, but you know what I mean," his cheeks turned a light pink and he shyly looked away. He cleared his throat and became serious, "But, all good things must come to an end. Tomorrow we'll wake up, head off to get some breakfast and I'll take you home, and that will be that; the same old, same old will start all over again."

Allison reached out and cupped his chin in her hands, gently forcing him to look at her. When his hazel eyes met her blue, she gave him a soft sweet smile. She lent in, gave him a gentle kiss and replied, "Sam, you're so sweet; that's one of the things I love about you. But, just because this night can't go on forever, that doesn't mean there won't be other nights just as special. We have the whole summer together. You sound like you think the world's coming to an end or something. For someone so young, you worry like someone twice your age. Come on, I think the crew has decided to make s'mores in the fireplace, why don't we join them? Could be fun."

Allison had stood and began pulling Sam up from the chair when a loud crash from outside, proceeded by an eerie howling, had her jumping back into his arms causing them both to fall back into the chair. At that moment Sam's cell starting ringing and his stomach knotted. 'This can't be good,' he thought as he struggled to answer his cell through the twisted knot of arms and legs that he and Allison had turned into.

Sam dug his phone out of his pocket and answered it; his heart sank when he heard the panic in the caller's voice. "Sam," Caleb said an uncharacteristic alarm in his voice, "it's me Caleb. Sam, you need to listen to me, your dad is heading towards the cabin. One of the wolves got the jump on Dean and then headed off in your direction…."

The blood drained from Sam's face and with a fear laden voice he interrupted Caleb, "Dean? What happened? How is he?"

"Sam," Caleb answered his tone gentle yet firm, "Right now that's not important. I'm with your brother and will see he's taken care of. Right now I need you to focus. Listen to me; the wolf's headed in your direction and your dad's right behind. You need to get yourself and the others out of there."

"Sam," Caleb yelled into the phone when he heard a loud crash and the sound of glass breaking followed by a high pitched scream. The phone went dead and Caleb realized that he had called to late. "Dammit, Johnny you need to get to Sam."

The large bulky body of the werewolf crashed through the window that was situated closest to where Sam and Allison had been sitting. Its eye's were wild and filled with what Sam could only describe as rage. Its nose wiggled as it sniffed the air around it and slowly it turned its attention to the overturned chair and the two forms that were lying on the floor in a tangled heap.

The wolf let out another blood curdling scream and it dropped to all fours as it slowly crept to where Sam and Allison lie. Allison tried but was unsuccessful in keeping a small squeak of fear from escaping her lips. The beasts beady eyes focused on her and with one swipe of its large hand it knocked her unconscious.

In what appeared to be slow motion the creature turned its full attention back to Sam and wore what looked to be a smile on its elongated snout. It rested its nose against Sam's neck and took in a long slow breath. It breathed in his scent and it recognized the underlying familiarity between him and two of the other men who had been chasing it earlier.

The wolf drew its nose from Sam's neck and gave Sam another smile. The look in the creature's eyes had shifted from rage to murderous fascination and Sam knew that he had been chosen as its next victim. The wolf licked his lips, bowed its head and slowly licked Sam's face.

Sam's stomach turned at the intimacy of the action. He squirmed which only served to further please the creature he was currently pinned under. The creature let out a soft sigh of pleasure and shifted its weight giving Sam the opportunity he had been waiting for. He twisted his arm and the small silver knife he had strapped to his arm slipped down and into his hand. Without any warning Sam thrust his hand upward driving the knife's blade deep into the creature's chest.

The creature let out a surprised howl and pulled on the knife with both of its hands. This gave Sam another opportunity as he used the being's distraction to his advantage. Sam placed his hands on its shoulders and pushed as hard as he could; the creature having been caught off guard and off balance toppled backwards off Sam.

The knife that had once been lodged in the wolf's chest skidded across the cabin's floor. Sam had managed to get to his feet and dove for the knife. With the knife once again in his hand Sam turned and stared the creature down.

Allison stirred and the movement drew the creature's attention. Even though it was more animal than human, at this particular moment, the human core remained and it felt the attachment that Sam had with Allison. Realizing the threat Sam posed to its well being the wolf pounced on Allison. It grabbed her roughly about the wrists and pulled her up.

Allison let out a startled yelp and her blue eyes sought out Sam. Her eyes locked with his and the fear and uncertainty he saw in them felt like a dagger had been driven deep into his soul. Allison found her voice and when she spoke she sounded little and lost. "Sam," she whispered and in that one word was a plea for answers and help.

Sam had become aware that he, Allison and the wolf were not alone. He risked a glance over his shoulder and cursed when he saw the rest of their companions had slipped into the room and had been watching in stunned silence. "You all need to get out of here," Sam said as he turned his attention back to Allison and the wolf, "Leave slowly. Once you're outside get in your cars, lock the doors and drive off." When he noticed no one had taken a step he more forcibly said, "Leave now!" The group slowly filtered out of the room and did as instructed. Sam breathed a sigh of relief and turned his full attention back to Allison.

John had arrived at the cabin, saw the shattered window and watched as the kids hurriedly filed out of the cabin, jumped in their cars and drove off. John felt his panic grow when he didn't see Sam or Allison in the group. He crept up to the broken window and looked inside. He saw Sam facing off with the wolf but didn't see Allison; she was hidden behind the creature's massive frame. John raised his gun, aimed for the spot on the creatures back that once the silver bullet tore through the path it would take would land it in the creature's heart and he pulled the trigger.

The gun's report hit Sam's ears the same time he saw the creature start to fall forward. Time seemed to slow and Sam watched as the wolf fell to the floor landing on top of Allison. "No," he heard himself call out and felt his legs move towards the two fallen bodies.

The wolf had changed back into human form and even though the natural form wasn't as massive it was still large enough to crush Allison. Sam pulled the creature off and quickly checked her for injuries. Allison had hit her head on a table that was nearby and had once again been knocked unconscience, a nasty goose egg and bruise had formed on her forehead and her wrists were starting to bruise, but other than that she appeared to be alright.

John climbed through the broken window and knelt down beside Sam. He placed a hand under Sam's chin and pulled his son's face towards him. His dark eyes locked on Sam's and when he was certain he had his attention he spoke, "Sam, son, hey," when Sam only shook his head John continued, "Sam you did good here but, now I need you take Allison to the car and get her out of here,"

Sam kept staring at his dad shock having set in, so John firmed up his voice, "Sam, look at me. Ok, good. Now listen, take Allison out of here. She needs to go to a hospital. Son, please snap out of it; Allison needs you."

The last part got through to Sam and he nodded. He, with his dad's help, got Allison out to the car. Sam slipped behind the steering wheel, started the engine and jumped when his dad tapped on the window. Sam rolled down the window and John leaned in, "Sam when you get to the hospital tell them it was an animal attack and that it happened so quickly you can't really remember anything, ok? I'll be there as soon as I'm finished here."

Sam drove off and John turned his attention to the task at hand. He salted the remains of the werewolf, lit a match and stepped back to watch the cabin burn. Once John was satisfied the fire had done its job of eliminating any evidence of what had happened he started the long walk back to town and his boys.


	13. Chapter 13

Caleb flipped his cell closed, a curse passing his lips the same time he sent a silent prayer to whoever maybe listening. He had to admit that life hadn't been as dull since he met the Winchester's. He also had to admit that the things he hunted weren't as big a threat to his health and well being as the worrying he did over the Winchester's. A soft moan broke through Caleb's thoughts and pulled his attention back to his current task at hand.

He took a look at his passenger and thought, 'And, this one's a story all of his own. Caught between his stubborn assed daddy and pig headed little brother.' Caleb took note that the middle Winchester had turned a deathly shade of pale and that his breathing had become labored. "Dammit, Dean, don't do this," Caleb hissed, "hang in there, boy. We're almost there."

Dean's head rolled in the direction of Caleb's voice and he cracked his eyes open. Caleb hit a bump in the road and Dean released a low murmur of pain. The blanket Caleb had pressed against Dean's side to quell the bleeding and the one he had wrapped around him to help provide some warmth against the chill he was certain would occur due to blood loss were both soaked through.

'The kid's in bad shape,' Caleb thought to himself, 'I can't see how he's held on this long. Damn, Johnny, this isn't any kind of life for these boys.'

"Caleb," Dean whispered so softly that Caleb wasn't sure he had heard him, "did dad get to Sam?"

Caleb felt a lump form in the back of his throat. 'Kid's knocking on death's door. Hell he's beating it down and he's asking about his brother. You know, it'd be nice if his devotion would be equally reciprocated, but,' his thoughts trailed off when Dean's soft voice cut through them, again, asking about Sam. Caleb cleared his throat and answered, "Yeah, I'm sure he did. But, that's not for us to worry about, not now anyway." Caleb stopped talking as he turned the truck into the hospital's parking lot and pulled up to the emergency entrance, "Right now we focus on you."

Caleb looked on in concern as a swarm of medical personnel swept in and took Dean away. In stunned silence he followed the small group until he was told he couldn't go any further. A nurse stepped from behind a nearby nurse's station and guided Caleb to the closest waiting area. She asked him if she could get him anything and when he shook his head no she nodded and quietly added that if that would change she would be at the nurse's station; she let her hand rest on his arm for a moment before she headed back.

Caleb slumped down onto of the overstuffed chairs that lined the decoratively painted walls of the waiting room. Caleb had to admit that this was one of the nicest waiting rooms he had been, and there had been plenty; but that this reason for being there was one of the worst.

Caleb's cell vibrated and he answered it. He listened to the voice on the other end before replying, "No, haven't heard anything yet; just got here. I gotta tell ya Johnny, he didn't look to good; kid lost a lot of blood. I signed him in under Dean Weston, at least that's the name he had on his i.d. this time round. Told them I'm his uncle. So far there haven't been too many questions but with injuries like his I'm sure the police have been called. What's the story we're using this time? Ok, yeah sure, got it. Sure, Johnny. Yeah, ok, you get here soon as you can."

Caleb put his phone back in his jeans pocket. He leant forward, placed his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands. He sat and thought about the hunt and what could have made it go so horribly wrong. He was mulling this over when he heard someone walk to where he was sitting and stop in front of him.

"Caleb," a voice, Caleb would know anywhere, full of alarm said, "What happened? Why are you here? Are you alright?"

Caleb looked up and his breath hitched in his throat. He wasn't prepared for this. He knew that Sam was bringing Allison into the hospital and he also knew that Sam didn't know about Dean. He didn't want to be the one to tell Sam about his brother.

"Mr. Jameson," a voice said from behind Sam. Caleb stood and turned his attention to the doctor who had entered the waiting room. "My name's Dr. Berglund. I'm the doctor in charge of your nephew's case. From what I've seen so far he received some very deep cuts along the right side of his body. Looks like some sort of large animal had a go at him. Fortunately none of his major organs were damaged, although I have to say his right lung missed being punctured by only a small fraction.

We need to get him into surgery quickly. He's lost a lot of blood and this concerns us. His body's begun to shut down and we're worried that the added trauma of surgery right now may prove to be more than his system can handle. However, if we don't get in there and stop the bleeding…."

"He'll die from that," Caleb interrupted, "So, I'm guessing you're wanting permission to go ahead and operate?" Dr. Berglund nodded and Caleb continued, "I just spoke to his dad, he'll be here as soon as he can, until then he gave me permission to speak for him.  
>He told me to tell you to do whatever you feel is necessary."<p>

"I'll send the nurse in with the forms you'll need to fill out. I'll send out nurses to keep you posted throughout the surgery." Dr. Berglund turned and left the waiting room. He walked as fast as he could, without actually running, back to his current patient.

"Nephew," Sam whispered, as he slumped heavily into a chair knowing that could mean only one thing, "Oh, god Dean."

Caleb sat next to Sam an arm wrapped around the shocked boys shoulders. He sat there, quietly, offering his strength until Sam's eyes focused on him and he heard the question he didn't want to answer.

Caleb drew in a breath and steadied himself. 'Dammit, Johnny where are you? Your boys need you. I don't want to be the one who tells Sam about his brother; that's your job. Johnny you need to get here, like now,' Caleb thought as he struggled with having to be the one to tell Sam what had happened.

Caleb drew in a breath, steadied himself and told Sam about how the wolf had gotten one up on Dean. How his brother had been looking to the left when he should have been looking to the right. How the creature had managed to get its claws into his right side and about all the blood he had lost as a result of the injuries.

Sam sat, his hazel eyes staring straight ahead as he listened to his friend tell his tale. Guilt started to settle in and he began to feel sick as he thought about how if he had been there, he might have been able to keep Dean from being hurt.

Sam came to the conclusion that this was because of him. He irrationally rationalized that if he hadn't been so selfish, and hadn't pushed the issue of going out, with Allison, with his dad, and if he hadn't dragged Dean into it that his brother would not have been so distracted by what was going on and the injuries he had still been recovering from as a result of their father's anger.

Caleb could tell what Sam was thinking. Sam's eyes exposed his thoughts as if they had been written in bright orange neon letters on a highway billboard. "Sam," Caleb softly said, "this isn't your fault. These things happen. You know it's an occupational hazard."

"Caleb, it is my fault. I should have been there. I should have had his back," Sam whispered, his voice heavy with guilt, "All my life he's been there for me, looked out for me; and the one time he needed me I wasn't there. I let him down Caleb.

You know what happened between Dean and my dad. He'd lie for dad and cover up the truth but we know what happened. That happened because I wanted my own way and I pulled him into it; it happened because of me," Sam said, his eyes and voice making it clear that he believed what he was saying, "If Dean dies it's my fault. It'll be on me."

Caleb grabbed Sam's shoulders and turned the younger man so he was looking at him. Caleb reached out and clasped Sam's chin, firmly holding the boys attention, "You listen to me, Sam. This, none of it, is your fault. You were right where Dean wanted you to be. This night meant as much to him as it did to you. Besides, if you had been there it could be you laying there instead.."

"It should be," Sam interrupted his eyes filling with tears.

Caleb gave Sam's chin a shake. His voice filling with anger as he continued, "Is that what you think," Caleb asked trying to reign in his emotions, "Is that what you believe? Cause for someone so smart you're sure being dumb."

Caleb took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He forced himself to relax and when he was confident that he had himself under control he continued, "Sam, you're not responsible for how your dad or Dean behaves or what they do. While, it's true you pulled Dean into your argument with your dad, it was Dean's decision to stay and it was your dad's decision to do what he did.

While it's true that you choose to go out with friends instead of going out on the hunt, you could have been hurt instead of or along side Dean and you wouldn't have been there to save Allison.

We can't always predict the outcomes that will result from our decisions/actions; all we can do is live with and deal with them the best we can. You understand? Don't let yourself get bogged down with guilt; your brother doesn't need it. Right now he needs you to be strong. He needs to know, believe, that you're fine, cause no matter what has or will happen he will always be thinking of you. Can you do that, Sam? Can you do that for Dean?"

Sam nodded and before he could say anything he heard someone call his name. Sam looked up and his eyes grew wide as he saw Allison's mother and father standing in the doorway to the waiting room. Caleb clasped Sam's shoulder, reminding him that he wasn't alone. Sam gave Caleb a small smile of appreciation and he stood up so he could go talk to Allison's parents.

Before he had even taken a step Sam found himself wrapped in Allison's mother's arms. Mrs. DeMarco held Sam until she managed to get her sobbing under control. When she felt she had gained enough control she gently pushed Sam away and examined him for any signs of injury.

Mr. DeMarco walked up and stood beside his wife. He nodded at Caleb then turned his attention to Sam. "Sam," he started, "It's good to see you're alright. We didn't know what to expect. We were at home when one of your friends called, all hysterical; screaming about how some monster had broken into the cabin and had attacked you and Allison. They said it was holding Allison and you were facing it down when you noticed they had come into the room. They said you told them to get out, to leave. According to them you were almost as scary as the monster so they fled.

We tried calling Allison and then you and when we didn't get through we panicked and decided to head up to the cabin. We were just about to leave the house when the hospital called letting us know Allison had been brought in. So, we rushed over here. We've been to check on Allison and were told by one of her nurses that they had seen you sitting here talking to the uncle of another young person who had been brought in. Since Alley's resting we thought we'd come to see about you.

The young man that was brought in, we were told had also been attacked by something, only he wasn't as lucky as Allison. The nurse told us they weren't sure if he was going to make it or not."

Sam's cheeks had turned pink and he had begun to shuffle his feet. Caleb could tell the boy was nervous and unsure as to what he should say. Caleb stood and extended his hand to Mr. DeMarco, giving the man a firm handshake. He introduced himself as Sam's uncle and explained that the young man who had been brought in was Sam's brother.

Mrs. DeMarco gasped and pulled Sam into another hug, "Oh you poor dear. I'm so sorry. As if you haven't been through enough already. Is there anything you need? Anything I can do for you?"

Sam wiggled out from the hug and shook his head, "No, I'm fine. It's Alley and Dean I'm worried about right now. If it's alright with you I'd like to go see her."

Mrs. DeMarco looked to her husband, who nodded it was alright. They watched as Sam left the waiting room and headed down the hall to see about Allison. Mr. DeMarco turned to Caleb and said, "Your nephew's a fine young man."

"He sure is," Caleb replied, "He sure is."


	14. Chapter 14

John had walked back to the apartment and grabbed a quick shower before he headed to the hospital. He had wanted to go straight to the hospital but realized that showing up looking like he did would draw more unwanted attention. He had gone over and over what Caleb had told him about Dean's condition; he knew it was bad, he just hadn't thought it would be that bad.

John dressed, pulled on his shoes, grabbed the keys to Caleb's truck off the coffee table and headed out to check on his boy. He called Caleb and told him he was on his way. He asked if there had been any news and Caleb explained that a nurse had come out a few minutes ago and informed him that everything was going well and that Dean was holding his own.

Caleb had filled him in on Allison and Sam's current conditions and told him about his meeting with Allison's parents. When Caleb had gotten to the part about Mr. DeMarco saying that Sam was a fine young man John snorted. "Yeah, he's a fine young man alright," John huffed, "if he had been with us tonight none of this would have happened. Dean wouldn't be hanging on by a thread and the wolf wouldn't have gone to the cabin. I swear one day that boys selfishness is gonna get someone killed, if it hasn't already tonight."

Caleb felt his blood begin to boil. 'Not tonight, Johnny,' he thought to himself, 'you're not gonna lay this on Sam he has enough to deal with right now.' "Johnny, that's not fair and you know it," Caleb's voice was sharp and clearly displayed the displeasure he was feeling towards his friend, "If that's how you feel and what you really think you can just stay away. I mean it, Johnny. I know they're your boys but right now they don't need that kind of energy around them. Sam feels guilty enough without you laying anymore on him and you know Dean, kid won't be able to concentrate on himself and getting better if he thinks there's something going on between you and Sammy. Let it rest, Johnny, I mean it. For now let it rest."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," John ground out, "they are my boys and I don't need you or anyone else telling me how to handle them. I appreciate all you've done this past week or so, but you can head out anytime you want. You say Sam feels guilty, well he damn well should. If he had been there to have Dean's back that wolf wouldn't have gotten the jump on him and instead of fleeing to the cabin it would have been dead. We would be back at the apartment celebrating another successful hunt instead of at the hospital waiting to see if Sam's gonna be an only child or not…"

"John," Caleb growled, "that's enough. You know you're the most pig-headed, convoluted, narcissistic son of a bitch I have ever had the displeasure of meeting. It's all about you isn't it? You're angry; you're upset so you need to have someone to take it out on. You don't care, hell you don't even try to, about how your sons feel about anything. You refuse to see what kind of damage your words and actions inflict on the very people you proclaim to love the most. You refuse to see it because as far as you're concerned you're the only one who's ever right, RIGHT? Geez, Johnny, do you ever really listen to yourself? I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying right here and make sure you don't hurt those boys anymore than you already have."

Caleb closed his phone, took a breath and sat down on the cement bench that had been placed by the hospital's entrance. For as much he loved the man, he hated him equally. John had something most hunters could only dream of, a family. Oh sure there were others out there but, to find a hunter who actually had a family was a rarity. The business was too dangerous and most hunters liked to keep to themselves. A hunter who had a family probably had that family before he or she had found themselves pulled into the life. John had a gift and he couldn't see just how precious a gift it was.

Caleb heard the low familiar rumble of his truck and he raised his head in time to see John drive into the parking lot and pull into an open parking space. Caleb felt the tension as it flowed off his friend in waves. Caleb knew this night hadn't been easy on John, but his concern lay with the younger members his friends family. Caleb had already decided he would go toe to toe, fist to fist with the man if he needed to, anything to protect the young ones. Caleb laced his arms across his chest and stepped in front of the hospital doors entrance.

John stepped up to Caleb, his eyes full of righteous indignation and anger; after all who did this man think he was? He, John Winchester, was the father of the two boys who were just inside the building and he alone knew what was best for them. "Outta my way, Caleb," John said with a low guttural growl, "I want to see about my son."

Caleb shook his head. "No, not until you give me your word that you won't do anything stupid to aggravate an already tense enough situation. I'm serious…."

"Oh, you're serious," John ground out, "Caleb, you're my friend and you care about the boys, I get that; but, I'm warning you let me by. This doesn't have anything to do with you." John tried to go around Caleb only to find himself stopped by an arm wrapped his neck from behind.

Caleb snapped, damn if John didn't have that effect on people, and before he could stop himself he had wrapped an arm around John's throat, had grabbed one of John's arms and twisted it back behind him and had pushed John face first into the exterior wall of the hospital.

Caleb lent in and in a low dangerous voice he whispered in John's ear, "The Hell you say. This has everything to do with me. When those boys were little you sought out everyone you could find to help you with them. There were plenty of times I took care of them for you while you were out on your self imposed mission of revenge. I have as much invested in them as you do. Granted I aint their daddy, I'm not even blood; but I am their uncle in every sense of the word that really matters and I take that seriously. I had, long ago made a vow to protect them from everything, EVERYTHING! You hearing me Johnny? Everything and anything that I feel is a threat to them I'll take on head first. Even if that means you."

Caleb gave John one more hard shove into the wall before he let go and took a step back. John stood facing the wall his fists clenched, his breathing fast and hard. His body shook with anger and he made himself count to twenty before he turned and faced Caleb. John's dark eyes had grown darker and they bore a hole through Caleb and to Caleb's credit he just shrugged, crossed his arms over his chest and stood there waiting for whatever it was John was going to do.

John dropped his eyes first. He knew that getting into it with Caleb outside the hospital wasn't going to do him any good. He put on his best face of contrition and told Caleb what the man needed/wanted to hear. "Caleb, look hey, you're right. I'm sorry. I'm just worried and tired, that's all. I promise I won't do or say anything that'll upset either of the boys. I swear," John said raising his hand in the boy scouts salute, "I just want to go see about them. Please?"

Caleb knew he couldn't trust John, but he had to admit that at that moment he had discovered the one responsible for passing on the puppy eyes to Sam and dammit if they weren't twice as effective from the original source. Caleb let his arms fall to his side and he stepped out of John's way. As John passed by him Caleb placed a hand on his shoulder and told him that he wasn't going anywhere and that he was keeping an eye on him.

John shrugged off Caleb's hand and told him he was more than welcome to keep an eye on him but that didn't mean he was all that worried about it. Bottom line Sam and Dean were his sons and he'd do whatever he damn well pleased when it came to them, but thank you for the concern.

Caleb ran a tired hand down his face and looked up to the night sky. "It's gonna be a long night," he mumbled as he followed John into the hospital. 


	15. Chapter 15

Sam watched Allison as she rested. He tenderly held her hand in his and watched the rise and fall of her chest accepting this as a sign that things could have been worse; she was alive and that's what mattered the most, she was alive.

His mind wandered back to the attack. It was his fault and he knew it; no matter how Caleb tried to spin it, Allison laying here was his fault. The wolf would have moved on from all the noise if it hadn't have smelt him at the cabin. In fact it wouldn't have even been alive to move on towards the cabin if he had been in on the hunt in the first place.

"Ugh, it's all my fault," Sam softly sobbed, "It's all my fault." Sam laid Allison's hand gently on the bed and stood up to leave, he bent over and softly kissed her cheek promising he'd check in on her again before she was discharged.

The youngest Winchester left the room without having noticed the strange man who had been watching him through a small break in the curtain that divided the room. The man had watched Sam, with a sick fascination and a sinister smile formed on his lips. "Oh, this is good," the man whispered, "Very good indeed. I can use this Sammy I can really use this."

The man moved from behind the curtain and stood by Allison. He picked up the hand Sam had been holding and he gave it a gentle squeeze, "Oh, my, the fun we are going to have. To think that I almost killed you," the man tilted his head as if in thought, "I'm so glad I didn't. This is going to be much more delightful." The man placed her hand back on the bed and exited the room. "So much to do," he said his smile cold and hard, "So much to do, indeed."

Sam had made his way back to the waiting area and felt a wave of panic wash over him when he noticed his dad had arrived. He was about to retreat when his dad's voice caused him to advance instead. Sam hung his head and refused to look John in the eye. He was physically and emotionally drained and he wasn't ready to face his dad, not yet anyway.

'Boy seems to be feeling guilty. Good. He should be,' John inwardly thought; but, outwardly he asked about Allison and her condition. He asked about Sam and if he had gotten himself checked over and if there was anything he needed. He filled Sam in on how he had taken care of the wolf's body and all other traces of what had transpired by burning down the cabin.

Sam for his part sat listening, to his father go on, in a dazed state of mind. He had fully expected to be facing his fathers angered wrath by now, but instead here his father sat talking to him, caring about him and he couldn't help but think that Caleb's presence had something to with that. It didn't matter, at least not now, Sam was just grateful for the peace he'd take it anyway he could.

Sam had stretched out on the waiting room's sofa and fallen asleep while Caleb had gone to get some coffee leaving John alone with his thoughts. He wasn't a religious man by any measure but he found himself praying to a god he wasn't even sure existed for his oldest to be alright. He prayed that if someone were meant to die this night that it be he.

John ran a tired hand down his face and dropped his chin to his chest. He was worn down, used up and he could feel his anger eating away at him. He knew this wasn't any kind of life Mary would have wanted for him and the boys, but it was the hand they were dealt. He wanted it to be over. He needed it to be over, but, he knew it never would be. It wouldn't be over until either he or the bastard that had taken Mary away from him met their final demise.

But, he wasn't even sure it would be over then. He suspected that something big was coming and that it involved him and his boys. The more he dug up the more certain he became that someone or something had it's sights set on Sam and that nothing would be over until it's plans for his youngest were fulfilled.

Once again John felt his heart grow cold towards his littlest one. All the pain, all the heartache and loss was tied up in something having to with him; everything always came back to him.

Someone quietly cleared their throat from near the entrance to the waiting room and John's dark eyes looked up in that direction. He noticed a doctor standing there waiting to speak when he was sure he had his attention. John nodded at the man, stood up and walked over to where he was standing. He reached out his hand and shook the doctors his eyes filled with the need to be updated on his son's condition.

The doctor returned John's hand shake and introduced himself as the physician in charge of Dean Weston's care and that he was looking for his uncle so he could give the man an update on his patient's condition. John introduced himself as Dean's father and silently cursed at the confusion that crossed over the doctor's face.

"Mr. Winchester, I don't mean to pry, but…" Dr. Berglund started.

"No it's ok," John replied pasting on his best smile, "Dean goes by his mother's maiden name. We decided when he was born that he would carry her name because there was no one to carry on her family name."

"Oh, well again I'm sorry. I wasn't meaning to pry. I just needed to make sure that I was indeed talking to family," the doctor cleared his throat again and continued; "We just finished up with your sons surgery and have moved him to recovery. He'll be there until he wakes up from the anesthetic, which will be more than a few hours. We'll then move him to his room and after he's been settled in then and only then will he be allowed any visitors.

He will be allowed only one visitor at a time, at least for now, and those visits will have to be kept short. He suffered a severe trauma and is going to need his rest. I fully expect him to make a full recovery, but it will take time.

I would suggest that you and your family head home and get some rest yourselves. We have your number and we'll call you when we're ready to move him into his room. Do you have any questions for me?"

"No, no questions. But, if it's all the same to you doc, I'd like to stay here and wait until he's moved into his room. I'll take your advice and send his uncle and brother home and I'll call them when he's moved, but I'm staying in case he needs anything. I'm not leaving him here alone," John stated the manner in which he spoke making it very clear to the doctor that this wasn't open for discussion.

"Ok, that's fine. I'm going to go check back in on him and then make my rounds. I'll notify you when he's been moved and settled in," and with that the doctor turned and left the waiting room.

Caleb who had been waiting and listening from right outside the door entered with the coffee and nodded at John. "I'll wake Sam and take him back to the apartment. I'll make sure he gets some rest and something to eat. I'll keep an eye on him."

"Thanks Caleb, I'll call you when I hear Dean's been settled," John replied then added, "Caleb, Sam's not to go anywhere; you hear me. He's to stay at the apartment until you both come back here, that's an order. Sam needs to learn to follow them."

"Sure, Johnny," Caleb said as he gently shook Sam awake. Caleb got the tired young man up and out to his dad's car (Caleb not wanting to take his truck as he had yet to clean the blood out of the cab). Sam mumbled something about needing to see Allison before he fell back asleep, but Caleb didn't catch it. Caleb climbed behind the steering wheel, started the engine and headed off towards the apartment. He felt a tremor run up his spine and he looked back at the hospital's entrance.

He saw a man standing there watching them leave and something about that man didn't feel right. Caleb yawned and stretched one hand over his head. "I'm just tired," he said as he pulled out onto the street and headed for home, "I'm just being paranoid. That's what happens when I'm over tired." He hadn't gotten more than half a mile down the road before the man he had seen watching them leave slipped from his mind and memory.

The man walked back into the hospital, rubbed his hands together and said out loud to no one in particular, "Let the fun begin."

Caleb got Sam safely back to the apartment and saw to it that he ate, showered and headed off to get some sleep. Caleb told the teen that he had some things to do and that John had left strict instructions for the kid to stay put. Caleb made Sam swear that he would and then he headed out to do what he needed to.

Caleb drove back to the hospital and picked up his truck; he then drove to the nearest car wash and set about to cleaning out the interior. He felt his stomach churn as he watched the water, turned red with his friend's blood, wash down the drain. Theirs was a nasty dirty business and it was times like this that drove that fact home more than anything.

Caleb had just finished when he felt his cell buzz in his pocket. He pulled it out, flipped it open and answered, "Hey it's Caleb."

"Hey Caleb, its John, wanted to let you know that Dean's been moved and settled; I'm going to go sit with him for a bit. Do me a favor will you, don't tell Sam, not yet. I want some time alone with Dean and truth is I'm still pretty angry with Sam." Caleb let out a creative string of curses and when he finished John continued, "Yeah, Caleb I know how feel, you've made it very clear. I also know that Dean doesn't need the tension that would be brought about with me being close to Sam right now, so I'm telling you not to say anything to him right now. I'll call when I decide it's time."

Caleb pocketed his cell, climbed into the cab of his truck and headed back to the apartment. "Johnny, you're a damn fool," he grumbled, "I know what you're doing you're trying to punish Sam by keeping him away from Dean; but, dammit Johnny, Dean's gonna be hurt the most."

Sam had fallen asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. It didn't take long for the nightmares to plague him and soon he was wrestling with his guilt and insecurities. He was forced to watch as the nights events played out yet again, his imagination having been equipped to dredge up a detailed image of what had gone down between Dean and the wolf.

He was forced to watch as the beasts claws tore through his brother's clothes then the soft body tissue that lie beneath. Only this time the beast hadn't been stopped and he continued to rip and tear Dean apart until his cries of pain were silenced and his eyes dulled by death.

The image then shifted to the cabin and he was yet again forced to watch as the creature attacked him and Allison. He watched on in horror as it took great delight in shredding Allison's tender flesh to bits and much more pleasure in ripping her still beating heart from her chest. He watched as her cries of pain and as her eyes dulled in death as well.

Sam thrashed about on the bed his consciousness making every effort to wake him, to shield him from the nightmare that his unconscience had decided to inflict upon him. But, it was a futile effort as his unconscience was being bolstered by an outside force.

It had been too easy. For hunters they had done a sloppy job of protecting their home base. He had expected to be hindered by salt lines and symbols, instead he found the way left wide open for him. He felt a flush of excitement as he stepped into the tiny abode and followed his instincts to where the young man lay sleeping, tucked safely or so he had assumed, in his bed.

The spell he cast took no effort, a few short phrases in the ancient tongue, and in no time he looked on as his handy work took hold. He listened to the murmurs and pleas of the sleeping boy and smiled in satisfaction that his worst fears were being playing out in his dreams. "That's it Sammy, let your guilt take over. Drown in it. Let it weaken you. Let it open you up to me. You know that all this was your fault. You know that you're family would be better off without you. They don't need you. You're a yolk around their necks. You drag them down with your selfishness. Look and see what your selfishness has caused. Look into your brother's and Allison's cloudy eyes. Their dead Sam and it's because of you. It's all because of you."

Sam violently tossed and turned the words sinking into his unconscience and taking purchase there. He watched the deaths of his brother and Allison over and over until finally his consciousness won and with a strangled shouted out "NO" he awoke drenched in sweat his breathing heavy and panicked. His eyes scanned the room and then landed on the now vacated spot where the man had once been standing. 


	16. Chapter 16

Caleb had come back in time to hear Sam shout out and he ran back to the room where he found the teen sitting on the floor in a corner, his knees pulled up to his chest rocking back and forth. Caleb ran to the boy's side and dropped down beside him. He reached out gripped Sam tightly by the shoulders and gave him a firm shake. "Sam," he snapped, "Sam look at me son. SAM!"

Caleb let out the breath he had been holding when Sam's eyes focused on him. "Sam, what the hell? Sam, talk to me." And when Sam spoke Caleb felt himself hold his breath yet again and his heart break.

"They're dead, Caleb, they're all dead and it's my fault," Sam whimpered, "it's all my fault."

"Who, Sam? Who's dead," Caleb asked fear gripping his insides tight.

"Dean, Allison, they're dead. They're all dead and it's my fault," Sam said his hazel eyes filling with tears and regret, "I shouldn't have been so selfish. I should have gone with you and dad. If I had…" Sam found himself unable to speak; he was drowning in the guilt.

Caleb for his part sat in stunned silence. What? How could this have happened? Sam had been fine when he had gone out to clean his truck. Sam had left the hospital knowing that Dean had made it through his surgery and that Allison was being sent home. What the hell was going on?

A ragged sob from Sam brought Caleb back from his thoughts and spurred him into action. He grasped Sam's chin firmly and forced the boy to look at him. When he was sure he had Sam's attention he spoke softly and reassuringly to him, "No, Sam, you got it all wrong. Dean and Allison aren't dead. Allison was discharged a short time ago and I'm sure she's home by now in her own bed with her parents fussing over her. And, Dean, well Dean made it out of his surgery just fine and the doc expects him to make a full recovery. In fact I just spoke to your daddy and he told me that Dean had been moved to his own room, so you know he's gotta be doing good."

Caleb watched with concern as his words sunk in and Sam started to visibly relax. He breathed a sigh of relief when Sam nodded and pulled himself up from the floor. Sam brushed at the tears that still sat on his cheek and headed to the bathroom. "I'm sorry, Caleb. I don't know what happened. It's just the dream was so vivid. I could see, hear and even smell everything. It was like I was right there. I watched the attack on Dean and then it switched to Allison. I knew it wasn't how it happened; I wasn't even there when it happened to Dean, but yet I saw it all so clearly. And then with Allison, the way it went down in my dream wasn't even close to what really happened, but it felt so real," Sam ran a shaky hand through his hair, "I guess I'm more worn out then I thought."

Sam walked into the bathroom, shut the door behind and looked in the mirror. He took in his reflection and noticed that his skin had taken on a sickly pale complexion and dark circles had formed under his eyes. He turned the faucet on and splashed some cold water on his face. He gripped the side of the sink and hung his chin down to his chest. His head snapped back up when he heard the words, "it's your fault their all dead," whispered in his ear.

"He did well," the gentle yet intrusive voice caused the worried father to jump, "You should be proud. He has a strong will to live." John nervously smiled at the nurse who had managed to enter his son's room and check his vitals while he (John) had been lost in thought.

"Yeah, he does. And, yes, I am," the anxious father answered back. John's eyes flicked back to rest upon the still form of his son.

After, John had turned his attention away from her the nurse sneered, her eyes quickly changing from their coffee brown color to black then back again. "Yes, well the doctors are all amazed at how well he's doing. It must be a relief to you," she stopped and looked down.

John sensed her apprehension and he turned back towards her. She looked up and her eyes conveyed compassion and concern and when she next spoke her voice did the same, "I'm sorry I don't mean to speak out of turn, but I can't help finding myself wondering what happened. I know it's not my business, but, his injuries wouldn't be directly related to the other attack that occurred last night? I'm not trying to be insensitive but I have children and I'm wondering if I need to worry about their safety.

This isn't the first attack to have hit this area and I fear it's not going to be the last. The authorities have been stumped and the attacks keep happening. Some around here have taken to thinking that it's werewolves, what with the timing and all," her lip twitched into a slight smile when John started at the mention of werewolves, but she quickly recovered and continued, "Of course I don't believe in all that nonsense, but you never know." The nurse finished her administrations and prepared to leave the room.

She tenderly patted Dean's arm and gave the sleeping boy a soft smile before she turned her attention back to John. "I'm sorry I really didn't mean to speak out of turn, it's just that I really am concerned. Your son is going to be fine. He'll need his family's full support, but he'll be fine. He's lucky to have a family as devoted to him as he does. His uncle just called to check on him, said something about he and his brother coming in for a visit, said that they were both really anxious to see him. Well, I'll stop intruding on your time and leave you to your visit. Please don't hesitate to call if there's anything you or your son may need."

John nodded to the nurse. "I understand your worry," John said nodding in Dean's direction, "From one parent to another that will never change no matter how old your children are, but I don't think you have anything to be worried about. The attacks occurred out near the park and off in the woods, away from heavily populated areas.

As to what actually caused all this, well funny you should mention wolves, as his uncle told me that they had gone out for a walk when they were jumped by a rather large wolf," he paused and watched the woman's face, "but, it was an average run of the mill type wolf, not a werewolf as we both know they don't exist.

His uncle said he got the better of it, injured it even and that's when it ran off towards the cabin. I guess it was really hurting and more than a little pissed when it decided to take a run at the cabin. They don't normally attack a large group like that, at least not when their alone.

My other son was at the cabin, in fact his girlfriend was brought in, tonight around the same my oldest arrived. From what I heard while my son was fighting it off the gas line to the fireplace was knocked loose. Sam, my youngest, said he managed to hit the thing over the head, knocking it unconscious. He picked his girlfriend up and carried her out just before the cabin blew. He thinks the creature was still inside when the cabin went up. He's sure it's dead," John shuddered, "When I think about how close I came to losing them both tonight, well…." John hung his head his mind a swirling mass of conflicting thoughts and emotions.

The nurse patted his arm and smiled at him. 'Time to turn the screws a little,' she thought before she said out loud, "Well, I suppose the poor girl was lucky to have had your son there with her, who knows what might have happened if he had been somewhere else last night."

"Yeah, who knows," John answered while he thought to himself, 'I do. I know and none of this would have happened.'

The nurse smiled at John, repeated her request for him to let her know if he needed anything then left the room. Once the door was closed behind her she did a little twirl then walked to the exit and left the hospital.

The night air felt cool against her skin and she smiled at the man who had been waiting for her. "It's done," she said, "or at least I'm pretty sure it's done. I helped to stoke the fire of emotion John is holding against Sam. It won't be much longer before any doubt Sam has about leaving is gone forever. John, will push his son right out of his arms and straight into ours."

The man smiled back his grey eyes taking on an amber colored hue, "Excellent. The sooner we can isolate Sam from his family and their influence the better."

"Sir, if you don't mind my asking why don't we just kill his father and brother, now? His brother's weak enough right now he'd be an easy kill. As for his father his distraction makes him an easy target."

"Oh, if only it were that easy," the man answered his head tilted to the side as if in thought, "but, as much as I'd enjoy that; it's too soon. There's more for them to do. They each have a part to play in this little scheme, the most important of which is to protect Samuel. You see no matter how far apart they may pull from each other, they will always be there for each other.

Our opponents have no doubt caught wind about our scheming and that makes Samuel a huge target for them. No, we're gonna need big brother's help in keeping Sam in one piece at least until the time comes," the man stopped and gleefully rubbed his hands together, "then I'll enjoy ripping him apart piece by little piece."

John stirred when he heard the door to Dean's room open. He looked up and frowned at the person he saw standing there. "Hey, dad," Sam said soft and low, "how's he doing?"

John was on feet and in front of Sam, pushing him out the door faster than it takes a human to blink. "What are you doing here," John hissed casting an angered glance to Caleb who stood behind Sam, "I thought I told Caleb I didn't want you here right now."

Sam looked down at the white tiled hospital floor. "I'm sorry dad…..uh I mean sir," he stammered, "I need to see him. I need to make sure he's going to be alright."

John huffed, "Yeah, you're all worried about him now. Where was that caring about him before all this happened, huh? You were so wrapped up in your own wants and needs that you didn't even spare him a thought unless it was in regards to how he could help you," John smiled a humorless smile and his voice got real low and icy cold, "at least Allison had your attention. At least she made it out relatively unscathed."

Sam took in a sharp breath his fathers words felt like a hard jab to the mid-section, "Dad, please…"

"No, not now," John cut him off and turned to Caleb, "Take him home. I'll call when Dean's woken up and only then if _he_ asks to see Sam; otherwise, I don't want either of you here." John turned to go back into Dean's room when a pull on his arm stopped him.

Caleb pulled John a little ways down the hall and further from Sam. "Squirt, here's been having a hard time with this. He's feeling pretty guilty and John you should have seen him earlier, the boy's a wreck. He had a dream, nightmare more like, and in it Dean and Allison had died and he was forced to watch. Dammit, John," Caleb hissed, "Sam's torn up over this and seeing Dean would help. Don't you even care, Johnny? Well don't you?"

John's dark eyes flashed, "Yeah, Caleb, I care. I care that my oldest is lying in a hospital bed after having been torn open by a beast that should have never gotten the upper hand on him and probably wouldn't have if his brother had been there backing him like family's supposed to.

Now, I'm only going to ask you nicely one last time to get Sam and take him home. If Dean asks to see Sam after he's awake then I'll call, if not then stay away until things have settled. Sam's already done enough harm by being selfish, let's see if he can put someone else's needs ahead of his own, just this once." John pushed past Caleb and back into Dean's room letting the door close behind him.

"Come on Sam," Caleb said taking the shaken boys arm in his, "your daddy's just scared he didn't mean nothing by it. What you say we head on home and you can start to get things ready for Dean for when he comes home. He'll appreciate it."

Sam, his eyes filling with tears, nodded and allowed the older man to lead him away from his brother and the comfort he so desperately sought in seeing him. Neither of the men noticed the woman who had been listening in on and watching them from around the corner. A cruel smile formed on her lips and she went back to taking care of her other patients. "Looks like Mrs. Oliver in room 1300 won't make it through the night, oops," she whispered as she headed to room 1300 and her next victim. 


	17. Chapter 17

"Wow, you've really thought this through," Caleb said as he sat across from Sam in a corner booth at one of the towns many greasy spoon diners.

"Yeah, well, he didn't leave me any choice. I'm serious Caleb. I saw a way out and I took it. I was thinking of waiting until the end of the summer, but now I'm not so sure. There's nothing keeping me here. He's given me every reason to leave and none to stay," Sam's voice took on a dejected quality.

"Your daddy may not have given you any reason to stay but what about Dean," Caleb asked hoping to get Sam to think. He knew he wasn't going to be able to stay much longer and he was hoping Sam would stay around and look after Dean until he recovered; it's the least Sam could as Dean had spent his whole life looking out for him.

Sam's eyes dropped to the worn formica table top and his index finger began to trace the coffee stains that covered it. "I don't know, Caleb," Sam answered, "That's up to him. I haven't talked to him yet, afraid he'd tell dad before I was ready to leave, but, I'm gonna ask him to come along." Sam saw the look Caleb gave him and a humorless laugh passed over his lips, "Yeah, I know Caleb, fat chance, but I have to ask."

"Yeah, I suppose, but do you think it's smart to leave before Dean's recovered," Caleb took a breath and continued, "You know your daddy better than I and even I know that Johnny can't be trusted to stick around and look after Dean if he gets a bead on whatever it is that killed your mom. I'm not gonna be able to hang around much longer Bobby's been looking into something out near Seattle and asked me if I could help. I'm gonna hafta head out in a day or two." 

Sam's eyes remained focused on the table top and his finger continued to trace the coffee stains he knew what Caleb was doing, he was trying to keep him from doing something he thought he'd regret, but it wasn't going to work. Nope, Sam had made up his mind. He was leaving and that was that. Or was it? Caleb had made a good point, but Sam couldn't really worry about it, because he wasn't always going to be there and his dad and Dean needed to learn how to manage without him. Sam had no doubt that John would get along just fine but, Dean…

Sam shook his head. No, he wasn't going to be guilted into staying..or was he? "I'll think about it Caleb," Sam said, "but that's all I can promise right now. I'll think about it."

Caleb inwardly smiled he knew that once Sam thought about it he would stay on at least until the end of summer or until Dean healed up. "Ok, fair enough squirt," Caleb tapped the finger Sam was using to trace the stains in an attempt to draw his complete attention to him. When Caleb was certain he had it he added, "I have one last request. Don't give me that look Sam (he said at the bitch face Sam pulled) talk to Dean before you leave. Sam, you know as well as I do what it would do to him if you just up and left. You remember Flagstaff?"

"Yeah, alright, I'll think about it. I promise," Sam said then softly added, " And, of course, I remember Flagstaff and you're right he should know before I leave. It's just…."

Caleb nodded, "Your dad. I know kid. Trust me. I know."

Caleb set some money on the table to cover the bill and a modest tip for the waitress and both of them got up to leave. Caleb noticed Sam hesitate and turned towards the diner entrance to see what had caused his hesitation. It didn't take long for his eyes to pick out the pretty dark haired girl who stood just inside the diner's door. Nodding Caleb looked back to Sam, "Allison," he asked? When Sam nodded he continued, "You want me to head out so you can talk to her? I can pick up the stuff for Dean then swing back around to get you."

Sam nodded, "Yeah, thanks Caleb. Thanks for everything."

"No problem, kid. I'll be back in thirty," Caleb nodded to Allison as he left.

John walked back into Dean's room and was surprised to see his sons jade green eyes staring at him. He could tell that Dean was aware of his surroundings and that he remembered what had happened. He could also tell that Dean was looking for someone, Sam, and damn if that didn't feel like a punch to the gut; but for the moment he pushed the feeling aside and smiled, "Hey, kid, you had us worried there, ya know? How ya feeling? You need anything?"

Dean shook his head, "How's Sam? Where's Sam? Did you get to him in time?" Dean's eyes pleaded with his dad for answers.

John sat on the chair he had earlier pulled up next to Dean's bed, placed his hand on his sons and answered, "Whoa, there Sam's fine. You don't need to worry about him. He's with Caleb back at the apartment. He wanted to stay but the doctors said you could only have one visitor at a time, for now. So seeing as he was pretty tired I asked Caleb to take him back the apartment so he could rest up. How are you?"

"I'm fine dad," Dean said his voice cracking at the dryness in his throat. John picked up a cup that was filled with ice chips and handed it to Dean. Dean nodded his thanks and when his throat wasn't as dry he continued, "Ok, so maybe fine is an exaggeration, but really I feel ok. I'm a little sore and a little tired but I think I'll live," he gave his dad a sheepish smile.

"Smart ass," John replied returning his sons smile, "you got tore up pretty good and lost a lot of blood. Caleb thought for sure he wasn't going to make it here in time. I'm serious Dean; we came real close to losing you…a little to close." John's voice cracked and he ran his hand through his dark hair.

"I'm sorry dad, I mean sir. I messed up. I don't know what happened. I don't know how it got the jump on me. I guess I was just lucky that you and Caleb were there. I'm just really happy you got to Sam before it did," Dean had dropped his eyes. He couldn't look at his dad. He had screwed up and that screw up had landed him in the hospital, which was bad enough, but it would have been worse if his mistake had landed Caleb, his dad or god-forbid Sam in the hospital.

"Yeah, son, you did mess up and mess up big," John started his voice rough then growing softer as he continued, "But, now's not the time to think about it. Now's the time to get you healed up, outta here, and then we can talk about it. Although, I do need to tell you that you were signed in under Weston," at Dean's confused look John smirked and continued, "Apparently you forgot you had that id in your wallet when we went out. I explained to the doctor that you have your mother's maiden name because there wasn't anyone to carry on her families name on her side, in case anyone asks."

'Crap', Dean thought to himself, 'as if ending up here wasn't bad enough I had to go and leave one of the fakes in my wallet. I can't seem to do anything right.' Dean tensed.

"Dean? Hey, son, it's ok, well not ok, but it's been taken care of. Now's not the time to focus on that. The only thing you need to focus on is getting back on your feet. There'll be plenty of time to talk about everything else after your better…ok," John smiled when Dean relaxed, "That's better. You're looking a little peaked. How about you try and get some more rest. I'll be here when you wake up."

Dean nodded. "Yes, sir," something in his voice caught John's attention and when he continued John felt his chest constrict, "When will the doctor's let Sam in to see me? I want to find out how his night went before…well before."

"I tell ya what. You get some more rest and I'll have Sam come to see you. How's that sound? Good," John replied to Dean's nod, "I'll call him and tell him to head over. He can sit with you while I go home and get some rest."

"Thanks, dad," Dean let out a small yawn, "and I really am sorry."

"You're welcome, son. And, don't worry about that now. Just focus on your recovery and we'll discuss the rest later." John left Dean to get some more rest and to call Sam. He got Sam's voicemail and the message he left was short and abrupt, "Sam your brother's awake. He wants to see you. Get your butt here on the double. That's an order and one I expect you to follow."


	18. Chapter 18

Sam let his phone go to voice mail. He had, for a moment thought about answering it, but only for a moment. His need to talk to Allison; to make sure she was alright overrode all other thoughts. If he would have checked the caller i.d. he would have realized that answering would have been the wiser choice.

Sam took in Allison's appearance and an immediate sense of guilt filled his inner being. Every mark, every bruise on her body was a direct result of his selfish need to be somewhere other than where he should have been. If it hadn't been for his selfish desire to have/to do something normal, Allison wouldn't have been placed in the line of fire. If it hadn't been for him she wouldn't have been attacked.

Sam lowered his eyes and quietly whispered, "I'm sorry, Allison."

Allison's jaw dropped. Did she hear him right? Did Sam just apologize to her? What did he have to be sorry for? From what she was told he was the reason she was alive. From what she had heard Sam was her white knight; her savior. What did he have to be sorry about?

Allison gently cupped Sam's cheek with her hand and lifted his head up so she could look into his eyes, eyes that she had come to love; eyes that at this moment shocked her with the depth of remorse that shone in them. "Sam, what do you have to be sorry for," she asked her voice soft.

Sam placed one of his hands over hers and with the other he gently brushed his fingers across the bump and bruise that had formed on her face as a direct result of the fall she had taken after his dad had shot the wolf. "This," he replied as he struggled not to choke on the emotion he was feeling, "I'm sorry for this. If I hadn't been there…."

"What, Sam," Allison asked the confusion she felt clearly heard through her intonation, "What? If you hadn't have been there; I wouldn't be here. From what I've been told you saved us all. I'm fuzzy on the finer details, but what I do remember is you facing off with that animal to protect me. You didn't back down and because of that I wasn't hurt more than I am. I owe you my life Sam. You'll never be able to understand just how grateful my parents and I am for what you've done. You could have run the other way. You could have left me, but you didn't. You took on that monster. You risked yourself to save me. You're my hero, Sam. You're my hero."

Sam lowered his eyes. She thought of him as a hero, but nothing could have been farther from the truth. He was selfish and irresponsible and because of him the two people he cared for most in the world had suffered, and it was hard for Sam to reconcile that fact with her thinking him a hero. Dean knew the truth, but Allison would never know.

He could never tell her what had really happened. He had to let her go on believing the lie and he felt himself suffocating under the weight of that lie. "I'm not a hero," he said while he thought (I'm the farthest thing from one).

Allison smiled, "Yes, you are. You will always be my hero. Sam, I wish you could see how really special you are." Allison noticed her parents waving her over to their table. She lifted a finger signaling she'd be over in a minute and turned her attention back to Sam. "One day, Sam Winchester, you will realize just how special you are. I hope I get to be there when it happens," she gave him a quick kiss on his cheek and pulled away a little bit from him, "My mom is waving me over I need to go. I'll call you later tonight and we can talk then." She grasped his hand in hers, their eyes locked for a second or two and with a nod she headed off to sit with her parents.

Sam watched as Allison joined her parents. She was fine. Sure she was physically beat up, but nothing so serious that it wouldn't heal properly with time and emotionally she seemed fine as well. Sam noted a hint of apprehension in her eyes that hadn't been there before but that was to be expected; she had gone through a traumatic event one that could have left her severely injured or worse dead, in time that to would heal and eventually be all but forgotten.

Sam turned to leave the diner when his phone rang again. He pulled his phone from his pocket, flipped it open and answered the call; before he could get any form of a greeting out his father's stern and angered voice poured through the phone's speaker.

John didn't give Sam time to say anything before he started in. "What the hell you been up to," John barked out, "I've called you three times in the last twenty minutes. Why didn't you answer your phone? That's what you have it for."

"Well, I uh…" Sam stammered.

"You, uh, what, Sam," John snipped, "What's more important than answering your phone? I really want to know; especially since I told you I'd call if your brother woke up and asked for you."

"Wait. What," Sam got out, "Dean's awake?"

"Well, he was. He woke up twenty minutes ago, asked for you and I told him I'd give you a call," John paused and the let the silence hang thick before he added, "But, I guess the next time he wakes up I could tell him you're to busy to come see him. I'm sure he'd be disappointed, but hey," John left the sentence unfinished the inference clearly having been made.

"No, don't do that. Let me call Caleb. I'll be right there. Dad, please. I'm sorry. I really am. I'll call Caleb he can come pick me up and we'll be right there," Sam looked at his watch, "give us fifteen minutes."

"Fine, but, don't think you're off the hook. I want an explanation from you. Anything, short of you being laid up yourself, will be inexcusable. When I call I expect you to answer; now more so than usual. Understood? Good. Now get here. If you're not here in fifteen…..we'll let's just say you don't want to know." John closed his cell and headed back into Dean's room. He checked to make sure Dean was still sleeping and then he sat down to watch the clock. 

Sam was bouncing on his heels by the time Caleb had arrived back at the diner. Caleb smiled at the excitement his young friend was exuding. Sam climbed into the cab and asked Caleb to floor it. They made it back to the hospital with a minute to spare.

Sam slowly opened the door to Dean's room and a frown tugged his lips downward when he saw that his brother was still sleeping. John had stood up at the sound of the door opening and smiled when he saw Sam standing there. He stepped to where Sam was standing and motioned for him to move back out into the hall. "Well, I see you made it," John flatly stated, "So, why didn't you answer your phone when I first called?"

Caleb rolled his eyes, "Seriously, Johnny, you want to get into that now?"

"Caleb," John hissed his voice full of warning. "Sam," John repeated, "What kept you?"

Sam looked down at the tiled floor. "I ran into Allison," Sam meekly answered.

John nodded, a frown creasing his face. "I see. Well, you're here now. Dean's been asleep since I first called you. I'm going to go home and get some rest. I expect you back at the apartment after visiting hours. Right after. Understand," John handed Sam the keys to his truck and turned his attention to Caleb, "He's still only allowed one visitor at a time. I'll let you and Sam work out who gets to go in first. I'll drive Dean's car home."

Sam and Caleb exchanged a shocked look. They both had expected John to go ballistic when he heard Sam's reason for not answering, and he had surprised them by remaining calm; leaving them both to wonder just what was up with him.

"John wait," Caleb called out and looked over to Sam, "I'll follow you home. I'm kind of tired as well. Besides, I have those supplies I picked up for when Dean comes home they really should be put away. Figured you could help."

"Yeah, sure, see you back at the apartment," John looked to Sam, "I expect you to be home straight after visiting hours are over."

"Yes, sir," Sam answered, "and dad thanks."

Sam watched the two older men leave then he slipped into Dean's room. Sam's eyes filled with tears of joy and a smile broke his face in two when he heard, "Hey ya Sammy."


	19. Chapter 19

Sam stepped over to and sat on the edge of Dean's bed. "It's good to see you, man," Dean said, "I was worried about you. I can't tell you how scared I was when I realized the wolf had taken off in the direction of the cabin." Dean swallowed and lowered his eyes, "Sam, I'm sorry it got away. I shouldn't have let it get one up on me. How's Allison? How's the rest of the kids? How are you?"

Sam couldn't believe what he was hearing; Dean was apologizing. Sam shook his head, "Dean, what do you have to be sorry for? You didn't do anything…."

"That's right. I didn't do anything. I didn't do anything, but screw up and allow the thing to head your way. Damn it, Sam," Dean choked on the words and wiped at the tears of frustration that had started to fall, "if that thing had gotten to you. If it had hurt you, I would never have been able to forgive myself. I should have paid better attention to what was going on around me. I allowed myself to be distracted and that distraction almost cost us, you and the others. Your night got ruined and I bet that Allison doesn't want anything more to do with you. I'm sorry Sammy. I really am."

Sam blew out a breath. 'Damn it dad,' he thought, 'its one thing for you to blame me, you're right on that, but, Dean; Dean, isn't to blame here. He didn't do anything wrong. You really are a son of a bitch, you know that?'

Sam took Dean's hand even though he knew it would make his older brother uncomfortable and gently yet firmly replied. "Are you kidding me? Seriously, man, listen to me. I'm the one who screwed up here. I knew the hunt was going to be rough but thought that since Caleb showed up you three could cover it. I should have been there to have your back; but, noooo, I decided I wanted to do something else and I did it. You were only distracted because of me. I know you were wondering how the night was going and were worrying about keeping that thing away from me and the rest of the kids."

Sam stood up from the bed and began pacing as he ran his fingers through his hair, "Damn it Dean, don't let dad lay this on you. You've taken enough crap for me already. Don't let him lay this on you. I should have been with you guys, and then you wouldn't have had any reason to have been distracted. Seriously, if I had been there you wouldn't have been worrying about me and you wouldn't have still been recovering from your last training session with dad. Dean, I'm the one who should be apologizing here; me not you."

Sam stopped pacing and went to stand by his brother's bed. He picked the hand that he had dropped back up and sat back down on the bed. He sat, quietly, watching as his older sibling processed what he had just said. Sam hated seeing his brother like this; not only was he feeling guilty over something he shouldn't, but he was injured and instead of focusing on getting himself better, his focus was on Sam and making sure Sam was alright.

Sam snorted. 'Typical Dean,' he thought, 'one of these days that attitude is going to get him killed. He has to learn to let go. He has to learn that he's not responsible for everything and everyone. He has to learn to take care of himself.' Sam looked down when Dean pulled his hand from Sam's.

Dean cleared his throat and gave Sam a soft sad smile. "Sammy, you were you belonged. If you had been with us you could be here instead of me," Dean raised his hand to keep Sam from interrupting, "But, I'll let you have your way, sort of. How about we agree that there's enough blame to go around and leave it at that? I'm too tired to fight and I really want to hear about how your night went before, well before you know."

Sam nodded. He wasn't fooled. He knew Dean didn't really feel Sam held any of the blame, but he agreed because he didn't want to fight either. Sam smiled and proceeded to tell Dean about his date. He told him about how they all met for dinner then headed to the dance. He described the way the hall had been decorated and told Dean what kind of music was playing. Dean scoffed at that, "Figures, you kids nowadays wouldn't know good music if it bit you in the ass."

The two spent some time laughing and joking around; but soon Dean grew serious again. The smile that his eyes had been holding left and they became shadowed with worry with and regret. "Sam, what happened at the cabin," he asked his voice full of need, "Are you really alright? How's Allison? I mean how is she? She's not freaked out over what happened, is she? Does she even know what happened?"

Sam wasn't sure he should tell him anything, at least not until he was better, but the way his brother looked and the tone in his voice, caused Sam to give in. He told about how the wolf had let out this howl and then crashed in through the window. How he and Allison had fallen backwards in the chair and how the wolf had pinned him to the floor. He told about how the wolf had held Allison as a shield and how their dad had arrived and shot the beast from behind.

He explained that Allison had hit her head and that she wasn't to clear on the minor details, but how she was certain that if Sam wouldn't have been there she would more than likely be dead. Sam shook his head as he told Dean how she had called him her hero. "Can you believe that? She called me a hero," Sam said the disbelief he felt echoing through his words.

Dean smiled at Sam, pride shinning in his eyes, "Yeah, Sammy, I can and so should you. She's right you know. You are, have always been and will always be a hero." A nurse entered the room letting them know that there was only a few more minutes left before Sam would have to leave. Dean nervously chewed on his lower lip. "Hey, Sammy, you're gonna come back and see me tomorrow right," he asked.

"Yeah, I'll try," Sam's heart clenched at the look Dean gave him, "It's just I have school tomorrow and with this being finals week I have a lot of studying to do."

"Yeah, ok. Well do what you can. Tell Allison I said hi," Dean answered unsuccessfully keeping the disappointment he felt out of his voice.  
>"Hey, look I could bring my stuff here and study while I sit with you. Maybe even sneak you a burger or two in," Sam said, finding the way his brother sounded made him to feel guilty.<p>

"Nah, it's all good. I know how important all that school stuff is to you Sam. You study. Dad'll be around and I'm sure Caleb will stop in to drive me crazy. Side's it's not like I'm not gonna be here more than a few days anyways. I need to be out in time to watch you graduate. Have I told you how proud I am of you?" Sam's cheeks turned red and he looked down. Dean continued, "Well I am. I might act like it's no big deal, but I know it is. I just don't want you to go and get any big ideas. I don't want you getting hurt. We're hunters Sam. It's our life. It's who we are. I just don't want you getting disappointed."

Sam smiled, "I know. Look, I'll really try and come in, ok." Sam looked back at the door and nodded to the nurse who was motioning at him, "You get some rest. Don't give the nurses to hard of a time, ok. And, Dean thanks. Thanks for everything." Sam lightly patted Dean's shoulder and left the room.

Dean watched as the door closed cutting off his view of Sam. He laid his head back down on the pillow, closed his eyes and whispered, "You're welcome, Sammy. You're welcome." 


	20. Chapter 20

**I would like to thank all of you who have been reading, and especially all of you have thought enough to leave a comment or two. I'm sorry that it has taken me this long to get an update posted. I have no excuses and humbly throw myself upon your mercy. I hope I haven't lost any readers and I hope to gain to some as well. If you feel inclined to leave a comment please do as they are always truly appreciated. I hope this update doesn't disappoint. End of A/N.**

"Alright. Yeah, I got it. Sure I'll leave tonight," Caleb hung up his phone and headed back into the apartment. He watched John as he lay asleep on the couch. He didn't want to leave until Sam came home and he knew everything was going to be as good as it could get between the two uninjured Winchesters, but he was needed sooner then first thought and he couldn't wait.

Caleb walked over to the sleeping man and gently shook his shoulder in an attempt to wake him up. John startled awake and swung out at Caleb, his still asleep mind making him think he was under some sort of attack.

"Geez, John, calm down, it's just me Caleb," Caleb shouted as he jumped back just in time to avoid the punch that if it had connected would have laid him out cold.

John looked up at Caleb and recognition set in. "What the hell, Caleb? What's wrong," John asked worriedly, because the only way Caleb would have dared to wake him was if something was wrong.

"Nothing's wrong John. I wanted to let you know that I got a call and I need to head out sooner than I thought. Like right now. I wanted to make sure that you're all squared away. I mean if you need me to stay I can see if someone else can help."

"Nah, you go on ahead. I've got it covered. I've been looking after me and the boys for as long as I can remember. We'll be alright," John answered as he stood and headed to the bathroom. John stopped and turned to Caleb before he turned the corner to the hallway, "Thanks Caleb, for everything. I mean it. It's been good having you here, but, the hunt doesn't stop because one of us gets hurt. You're needed Caleb. Sam and I will take care of Dean."

Caleb packed his last bag into his truck, said one last goodbye to John and drove off. He couldn't shake the feeling that he should stay; but, as John said he was needed elsewhere and highly doubted whether his staying behind would make all that much of a difference.

Sam pulled his dad's truck into the empty parking space next to his brother's car. He looked for but didn't see Caleb's truck and figured that his dad and Caleb had gone out for something to eat or a drink since he didn't see any lights on in the apartment.

Sam entered the apartment and realized he wasn't alone only after he felt the rough hands pull him through the open door and push him hard against the nearest wall. The scent of stale whiskey assaulted his nose causing him to gag on the unpleasant smell. His eyes tried to adjust to the darkness but it wasn't easy as his oxygen was being cut short by the forearm that had been placed across his throat.

Words full of bile and hate snaked their way to his ears and he felt himself grow weak from their bite as well as the lack of oxygen. 'Is this what you feel when dad starts on you, Dean,' Sam thought to himself, 'How do you do it?' He slid down the wall when the arm that had been holding him up let go and he sat gasping for air trying to get his head clear.

Strong hands gripped him around the biceps and pulled him up, giving him a shake after he was on his feet. He was dragged over to the couch and forcefully pushed down on it. The table lamp that sat on the coffee table next to the couch flicked on and Sam found himself staring into the anger filled eyes of his dad. Sam instinctively drew back and did his best to figure what he had done to make his dad mad this time. He didn't have to wonder to long as John filled him in.

"I have never in my life seen anyone as selfish and careless as you. What did you do to your brother? I got a call from the nurse after you left. She said that Dean was really upset about something after you left and wouldn't tell her what was wrong. What did you do," John asked emphasizing his anger with a punch to the wall beside Sam's head that dented the plasterboard.

Sam flinched when he heard the wall crack and he coughed at the light dusting of plaster that had shaken loose from the wall. He stared at his dad in shock, his hazel eyes conveying the fear he felt at that very moment. "I didn't do anything," Sam said his voice shaking, "I stayed with him til they made me leave. I told him about my night and he appeared to be happy. He asked me to come back tomorrow but I told him…" Sam broke the sentence off, 'Oh, gosh, that can't be it. Can it? He didn't seem happy about it, but he didn't seem that upset either. Well not upset enough to make a nurse call dad.'

John, who had been watching Sam, caught the hesitation and he jumped on it. He grabbed Sam by the front of his shirt and pulled him forward so that they were both literally nose to nose. "What did you tell him, Sam," John seethed.

"I told him that I didn't think I'd be able. I told him I had to study. He looked upset so I told him I could bring the books to the hospital and study there but he said I didn't have to. He told me he wasn't going to be there to long as he wanted to watch me graduate. I swear, dad, he didn't look to be upset enough for a nurse to have called you. I swear. I don't know what happened."

John's backhanded slap sent Sam's head turning to the side with its force and Sam felt the blood begin its trickle from the new cut that the blow had created on his cheek. He felt his eyes feel with tears and he wanted nothing more than to run right then and there. The only thing that prevented him from doing that was the fact that Dean would need him when he got out of the hospital and he didn't want to leave his brother without at least talking to him first.

"Dammit Sam, your brother's in the hospital because of you. Your selfish desire to do what you wanted without thought of consequence to anyone other than yourself left your brother distracted, unguarded. Then when he had woken at the hospital and you weren't there to see him, but with Allison, well how much more could you clearly convey just how little you really think of him," John backed away from Sam and began pacing the room like a caged lion, "Where did I go so wrong with you? How did you grow up to be so self-centered? Why can't you be more like your brother…"

Sam felt his own anger rise and his father's last comment lit the match to the powder keg and before he could stop himself, Sam erupted, "Cause, I'm not. I'm not like him. I'll never be like him. I'm not so willing to give up what I want. What I need, for a cause that isn't really mine.

Dean's the good son, the good little soldier. The never question orders do as he's told one. I'm not like that. I need to know, to understand, the how's and why's. I don't remember mom. I don't remember being held by her. Being loved by her. I wish I did. But I don't. From, what I've been told, I believe this isn't what she wouldn't have wanted for any of us.

From what I've heard of her, mom would be pissed at you right now for dragging me and Dean into this life. She would have wanted you to leave us with someone, anyone, other than training us to be soldiers in your war." Sam's tirade was cut off when his father's fist landed squarely on the teen's temple, effectively knocking him out.

John knelt beside his son's unconscience form, grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him up from the floor. He fisted his hand and was ready to hit Sam again when a small voice stopped him. "John no," the voice whispered to him, "This is wrong and you know it. Please don't hurt our son anymore than you have. Think of him and Dean. What would it do to Dean? You know he'd blame himself for leaving his brother here and unprotected. John, please."

John's hand loosened it's gripped on Sam's shirt and he watched as his son's limp body fell back onto the floor. He looked at his hands and felt the all too familiar burn of the tears as they built in his dark eyes. "I'm so sorry, Mary. I'm so sorry," John cried to the empty room. He carefully picked Sam up from the floor and carried him into the room he shared with his brother. Gently he laid the injured boy on his bed and sat down on his brother's vacant bed.

For a moment John had thought about calling Caleb back, but only for a moment. This was his family, his issue and he was going to take care of it. John wasn't aware of how long he had sat by Sam's side as exhaustion had overtaken him and he had fallen asleep on Dean's bed, breathing in the familiar scent of his oldest, when a low groan from his youngest stirred him from his sleep.

John opened his eyes to find himself looking into the dazed and frightened hazel ones of his baby. He shuddered at the thought that it was he who had put that fear in his baby's eyes. "Sam, hey son, how are you feeling," John asked his voice husky from having just woken up as well as the guilt he was feeling over Sam's current state.

Sam gingerly touched the cut on his cheek then moved his fingers up to his temple where his dad's fist had connected, causing him to black out. He flinched at the pain the contact caused and he swallowed a moan stopping it before it could escape his lips. He scooted himself as far back as he could from his father, stopping only when his back hit the wall. "Mmm, fine," Sam lied. His head felt like it had been used as a piñata and he felt nausea building, but he wasn't going to tell his dad that so he lied, "I'm fine."

John stood up from the bed he had been resting on and moved towards Sam. He stopped when Sam flinched and tried to sink further into the wall. Holding his hands up in front of him John addressed his youngest, "Sam, look I'm sorry. I'm just gonna check you over. I know you say you're fine, but I would like to take a look anyways, alright?"

John let out the breath he had been holding when Sam nodded. Slowly he walked over to and sat down next to Sam. He looked into the boys eyes, did all the other things a person would do when checking for a concussion and found himself satisfied that Sam didn't have one. He noticed that a dark and angry bruise had begun to form in both places his hand had met his son's face in rage and he felt the guilt rise again.

John stood and asked Sam if he was hungry. When Sam answered he was and agreed that soup sounded good, John left the room to make them both something to eat. Sam sat up, his head still spinning and looked to his brother's empty bed. "I'm sorry, Dean," he murmured, "I'm so sorry, but I can't take what you can. As soon as I'm set I'm gone. You can come with if you want, but all I know is I can't stay here."

Sam stood from his bed and headed to the kitchen when the aroma of beef vegetable soup stirred his stomach into growling. He would stay until Dean was better and then he would talk to him about what he was planning. He would offer Dean to come with, but he wouldn't give in and stay. No, he had to get away before this life either killed him or turned him into his dad.


	21. Chapter 21

The next morning Sam woke and got himself ready for school. He looked in the mirror and cringed at the dark black and blue bruises that had formed on his cheek and temple. "Great," he mumbled to himself, "Mr. Franklin's gonna have a field day with this." Sam grabbed his books and headed to the kitchen for some breakfast.

Sam was relieved to find that his dad had already left to go see Dean at the hospital. Sam grabbed a bowl, the milk from the fridge and set them on the table. He pulled the cereal out of the cupboard and found a note taped to the box. Sam sighed; the note was from his dad telling him to drive the Impala to school and to stop off and see Dean on his way home.

"Great," Sam mumbled to himself again, "tomorrows my geometry final and I really need to get some last minute studying in." Sam slammed the box down on the table and grabbed a spoon from the utensils drawer. He poured himself a bowl of cereal and ate in silence, his agitation with his father growing as he dwelled on the words in the note.

The day had flown by and no one said anything to him about the marks on his face, not even Mr. Franklin. In fact no one really said much of anything to him about anything. He could hear the other kids whispering when he walked by, but he couldn't really make out what they were saying. He had placed his books on the passenger side of the front seat and had closed the door when he heard someone walk up behind him.

"Sam," Allison started, "What happened to your face? I saw you after the cabin and I don't remember you having that cut or that bruising right after. I didn't say anything before because I know Mr. Franklin thinks something is going on at home and I didn't want to stir up suspicion, and as long as everyone thinks this is from the animal attack I won't; but, Sam you can tell me the truth….what happened?"

Sam slowly turned around. His stomach clenched at the realization that he was going to have to lie to her. He could see it in her eyes that she knew the truth and he wanted nothing more than to tell her, all of it. He wanted to tell her about his life. About, his father's, brother's and what they soon expected to be his line of work, but he knew he couldn't, he knew he had to lie, if only to protect his brother.

Sam knew that if anyone found out who they really were, what they really did, his father and more importantly Dean would be in a whole mess of legal hot water. For them to be successful at what they did, they often times found themselves on the wrong side of the law. A sheriff wasn't going to believe that the grave you had just dug up, or the bones you had just set fire to belonged to a ghost and the only way to get rid of the ghost and keep it from hurting someone else was to salt and burn the bones. No, a sheriff wouldn't believe, all he'd know is that you broke the law by desecrating the grave and he'd take you in.

Then while in custody you run the chance of everything else you had ever done being exposed. No, Sam couldn't tell her the truth no matter how much he wanted; he couldn't do that to Dean.

"I got a little drunk last night and took a fall down the outside steps to our apartment. I was really upset over what happened to Dean and I guess I tried to drink the pain away. Dad wanted to take me to the hospital, but I told him I was alright and that I just wanted to go to bed. I told him I only had three days left of school and I didn't want to miss any. I'm fine. I really am," Sam said as he saw Allison getting ready to protest, "I just want to make it through finals, graduate and then head off to Stanford.

Can you believe it? We only have three days left before we're outta here. Dean said he's going to try to get out before graduation. He's got about a week, so he should make it. It'd be nice if he were."

Allison took note of the way Sam's voice changed when he mentioned Dean and his wish for him to see Sam graduate. She knew the brother's were close, but apparently she didn't really know just how close. She also had a strong feeling that Sam was lying and even though she didn't like it, she respected the fact it wasn't really any of her business. She gave Sam a smile and kissed him on the cheek. "Hey, a few of us are going to the library for a study group. The geometry test is gonna be a bear; you want to join us?"

Sam shook his head, "I'll try to stop by, but I think I'm going to go visit Dean for a few. He asked me to yesterday and when I told him I had to study he got a little upset. He really hates hospitals and well I guess he got upset enough the nurse called dad. I don't want him to be upset; he needs to concentrate on getting better. I tell you what; if I'm not running too late I'll be there, okay?"

Allison nodded. To her what happened to Sam became clear. She began to think that Sam had upset his brother, accidentally, and their dad took it out on him. Allison not wanting to upset Sam grabbed his hand and kissed him on the cheek. "Okay," she answered, "I hope you can make it."

Sam parked his brother's car in the visitor's section of the hospital's parking lot. He grabbed his books and headed inside to visit with Dean. Sam had just stepped off the elevator when felt himself being pulled into the waiting room. "What the hell," Sam exclaimed, "Let go of me."

The nurse who had pulled Sam into the waiting room let go of him. "I'm sorry," she said as she poked her head out into the hallway to make sure no one had noticed them. She turned her attention back to Sam. "I'm sorry," she repeated, "But I can't let you in to see your brother."

"Why," Sam asked.

"Because, he requested that you not be let in."

Sam's jaw dropped. "What," he stuttered out.

"Look, I don't know everything that happened okay; all I do know is that you're not allowed into your brother's room."

"Is my dad here," Sam asked, "I would like to talk to him."

The nurse nodded, "Yes, but I don't know if that would be a good idea. He seemed pretty upset over the whole thing."

"Please," Sam begged turning the puppy eyes on in full force, "I need to know what's going on."

The nurse shrugged, "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you." She left to get John and a few minutes later the angered man entered the waiting area and marched over to where a bewildered Sam sat.

"Just, what the hell are you trying to pull, Samuel," John growled at his youngest, "Of all the lowdown dirty rotten stunts you could have pulled, having Allison call here and talk to Dean has to be the lowest."

"Wait, what, huh," Sam stammered, "Who called?"

"You heard me," John snapped, "That girlfriend of yours called. She asked Dean if maybe he would consider letting you study with them instead of staying all night at the hospital. She said that she wouldn't ask but the geometry exam is going to be a killer and everyone, even you, would benefit from the study group.

You should have seen your brother's face. Sam, he looked like someone had suckered punched him, and well she did. Sam, after everything he has done for you, you go and pull this on him? I'm telling you right now to go. You go to your little study group. You go and do what you do best, think of only yourself. I'll take care of your brother," John turned to leave the waiting room and stopped in the doorway. Before he left he looked over his shoulder at Sam, "Oh and Sam, just so there isn't a repeat of last night; I have decided to stay at Job's place. I'm gonna work on finishing it up and when Dean gets out where all gonna go stay there until he's recovered enough to move on."

Sam's shoulders slumped. He couldn't believe what had just happened. How could Allison have done something like that without even talking to him about it? His instinct was to go Dean's room and clear this up, but with as angry as his dad had been he decided against it. Sam left the waiting room, got back on the elevator and headed back out to the parking lot.


	22. Chapter 22

Sam watched Allison as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He felt his ire rise and he closed his eyes, counted to ten and took a deep breath to force himself to calm down. He felt himself relax so he opened his eyes and walked to the table where Allison and the others were sitting.

Allison looked up and she broke out in a big smile. "Sam, you made it," she exclaimed while she jumped from her seat and threw her arms around his neck, pulling him close into a hug. Allison let him go and stepped back when she felt Sam tense instead of returning her hug. Allison's blue eyes focused on Sam's hazel ones and she took an involuntary step back from the anger she saw in them. "Sam," she started.

Sam raised his hand and cut her off. "Don't, Allison. Just don't. How could you," he asked his voice shaking with the hurt and anger he felt, "How could you do that to me?"

"Do what, Sam. I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't do anything," Allison stated, her voice full of the confusion she felt.

"Really, you didn't call Dean and tell him that he should let me come study with you instead of visiting with him? Well," Sam asked holding his arms out to his sides demonstrating his wait for an answer.

Allison's eyes began to fill with tears and she shook her head, "No, Sam, I didn't. Why would I?"

Sam's expression said it all, he didn't believe her and when he spoke his words confirmed it. "Really, so my brother banned me from his room for no reason? Yeah, that's right Dean told the nurses and the doctors he didn't want me to be allowed in his room," Sam coolly replied his voice unnaturally calm compared to the storm that brewed in his eyes, "I don't think so. Dean wouldn't do that. He wouldn't lie about something like that. I can't, no I don't want to believe that you could do something like that, but since I know Dean and know he wouldn't lie about this, you have to be." Sam stopped talking and dropped his head.

Allison, who had been dumbstruck by what Sam had said, gathered her wits about her and spoke up. "Sam, please, you have to believe me. I wouldn't do that to you. Please you have to believe me," Allison pleaded. "I," Allison didn't finish the look Sam gave her when he raised his head frightened her into silence.

"No, Allison, I don't. I don't have to believe anything you say," Sam turned on his heel and walked away. His heart shattered in a million pieces and he felt the tears begin to fall. If he would have turned around he would have noticed the strange smile that had formed on Allison's face and the way her blue eyes had changed to black.

The next three days were very hard on Sam. He spent his days at school finishing up the last of his exams and the nights at home, alone. His dad had stayed true to his word and he worked on Job's place until it was ready for them to stay at when Dean left the hospital. And, Allison, well she avoided him like the plague. Sam couldn't deny that he missed her, but he also knew he didn't need someone like her in his life.

Graduation Day came and Sam stood in front of the mirror he had stood in front of prom night and checked his appearance. He hadn't heard anything from his dad or brother and he fully expected to be alone at the ceremony and after. Sam would have been lying if he said it didn't hurt, but he knew that his dad was still mad and since he hadn't heard from Dean he suspected he was as well.

Sam's heart skipped a beat when he remembered prom night and how excited Dean had been for him. He missed his brother and he wanted nothing more than to be able to see him, to talk to him, but he had been banned from visiting and even his calls were stopped from going through. "So this is what it'll feel like when I leave," Sam whispered to himself, "Well, I guess its good I get used to it."

The spring sun felt warm against his face and he closed his eyes letting the warmth wash over him. He was graduating today and in a few months he would be at Stanford pursuing his dreams and living his life, this was to be a day of celebration and he wasn't going to let anything or anyone bring him down.

Sam stood when his name was called and he walked the stage to get his diploma. He shook hands with the Superintendent, took his diploma from him and when he started to exit the stage he heard someone call out, "Way to go Sammy." Sam stopped and his eyes searched the crowd, a smile the size of Texas breaking his face when he saw his brother sitting on the front row bleachers with Caleb, Bobby and Pastor Jim next to him.

After the graduates had been dismissed Sam made his way to his brother and Uncles. He looked around and when his eyes met Dean's his brother shook his head, that silent communication telling Sam that John hadn't come. 'That's alright," Sam thought, 'Dean came and what an added bonus that Jim, Caleb and Bobby are here.'

Caleb had caught the silent exchange between the brothers and he decided to lighten the mood; he grabbed Sam in a head lock and roughly rubbed his knuckles on the kids head. "Ugh, knock it off Caleb. Don't mess with the hair man," Sam pouted.

"Sorry, dude," Caleb said as he continued knuckling Sam's head.

"Yeah, sure you are," Sam laughed out.

"Caleb, let the boy go," Pastor Jim's soft voice broke through, "You, Bobby and I have some things to get ready back at the apartment for Sam's graduation party. Sam you can make sure Dean makes it back, can't you?"

Sam looked down and fidgeted. "Uh, dude I'm not an invalid," Dean piped up, "I'll make sure Sammy here gets home."

Sam's head snapped up and he caught his brother's eyes. The look his brother gave him was one of forgiveness and longing. Sam could see that Dean had forgiven him and that all he wanted was for this to be put behind them and for them to move on.

Jim chuckled, "OK, yeah, sure. Give us about a half hour you two. Everything should be ready by then." With that the three men took off and went back to get everything set up.

Sam dropped his gaze and began to fidget again. "Dean, look I didn't know Allison had called you. I'm sorry. I wanted to visit you. I had even gone to the hospital but they wouldn't let me in. If I had known she would do something like that…."

"Sammy, hey, it's done with. I won't lie, man, it hurt. It hurt real bad. But, once I realized you wouldn't have done that, it was too late. I'm sorry, Sam. I'm sorry you had to go through this. I'm just happy that I didn't miss your graduation. I almost did. Dad refused to bring me. If hadn't been for Jim and the others," Dean shrugged, "I am sorry. Hey what you say we head back? The guys have something really special planned for you. They're so proud of you. But, not as proud of you as I am. To have accomplished what you have with the life we lead, Sammy, you're going to make it big."

"Thanks, Dean," Sam answered his cheeks turning crimson at his brothers praise.

**Author's Note: **I would like to thank all of you who have been kind enough to leave me comments. I really appreciate them. Thank you so much. I hope this chapter didn't disapoint.


	23. Chapter 23

Even though it had only been a little over a week; to Dean it had felt like years since he had sat in his baby, listening to the rumble of her engine, feeling her gentle vibrations soothing his restless spirit. She was home and all that mattered to him, besides Sam of course. Dean cast a sideways glance at his younger brother, who much to his chagrin had passed him in height and could no longer be called little, and felt his pride grow for the man he had become.

Sam fidgeted under the weight of his brother's scrutiny. "What," Sam asked, afraid that Dean was going to say something about his driving.

"Nothing," Dean answered, a small smile gracing his lips, "It's just I'm so damn proud of you."

Sam cut a look in Dean's direction at the tone his brother's voice had taken He noticed the way Dean's jaw had tensed and the way he was staring at his hands as they picked at a lose thread on his jacket. Sam gripped the steering wheel tighter when Dean began to chew on his bottom lip having read his older siblings tell tale signs that something heavy was coming.

Dean nervously cleared his throat before he continued. "Hey, uh, look Sammy," Dean stammered. "You would tell me if you were planning on leaving, wouldn't you," Dean asked his fear of the answer evident in the tone and manner, in which he spoke, "It's just I got this feeling that there's something you've been wanting to tell me, but just don't know how."

Sam let out a heavy sigh, how did Dean do it? How could Dean read him so well? He wanted to tell Dean about Stanford, but he couldn't not yet, he had to wait until the time to leave was closer. He feared that if he told Dean now that Dean would tell their dad and that he would find a way to ruin it for him. So Sam did the only thing he could, he lied, "No, Dean, I'm not thinking of leaving and no there's nothing I want to tell you."

Dean could tell Sam wasn't being honest, but because this was Sam's big day he decided to let it go. They pulled into the parking space outside the apartment they had been staying at and Sam let out an exhale of surprise. The normally lay low, don't draw any attention to us, hunters had decorated the balcony railing outside their apartment with graduation streamers and a big sign congratulating Sam on his accomplishment.

They had set up a grill on the balcony and had started grilling steak and shrimp, the aroma causing Sam's stomach to growl in anticipation. Sam got of the car and went around the passenger side to help Dean. Dean waved him off and told him to head upstairs. "Just wait to go inside until I'm there. Please" Dean asked.

Smiling like a kid at Christmas, Sam turned and took the stairs two at a time. Bobby and Caleb, who met him out by the grill, couldn't help but laugh at the way Sam's stomach had taken to letting them know he was hungry and that dinner smelled good.

Dean slowly made his way up the stairs and to the balcony, his side starting to thrum out a steady beat of pain. A thin sheen of sweat had broken out on his forehead and his breathing had become light and shallow. However, all that was forgotten as soon as he saw his brother and the way he was joking around with Caleb and Bobby. To Dean his brother's smile had been and would always be the best medicine.

"Hey, Sam, leave 'em alone," Dean softly said when he saw his brother harassing the two older men, "I told them to stop you from going in. I wanted to see your face when you walked in. So, do me a favor here geek boy, give me a sec to get inside, get settled and then you can come in, alright?"

Sam gave Dean his best puppy dog eyes, but nodded that he would wait. Sam could barely contain his excitement. What was beyond that door had to be good, really good, if Dean was this excited about it. He let Dean go inside, counted to fifty, and then he entered the apartment.

"Surprise," the word slammed into Sam like a warm hug and he felt the warmth throughout his entire being because the best surprise was standing in front of him. Sam looked to Dean than back to the others and without warning he ran into the welcoming embrace of the one woman he had come to think of as a surrogate mother, Marta Williams.

Sam felt a strong pat on his back and turned to embrace the man who had come up behind him. Sam felt tears of happiness build and he let them fall without shame. Mr. Williams pulled Sam in tighter and held him until he managed to get his emotions in check.

"Congrats, nerd," Sam heard a voice say from behind Marta and then he heard another voice say in admonishment, "Max, what did I tell you?"

Sam's smile grew even bigger and he made his way to where the owners of the two new voices had been sitting. Dean had sat quietly watching all this unfold, he felt Pastor Jim step up next to him and both the men watched in a contented silence as Sam greeted his guests.

"Max? Elena? Mr and Mrs. Williams? Wow, I don't know…I mean wow," Sam stopped as he tried to get his excitement under control; when he felt it was he continued, "Wow, this is a great surprise. I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but you didn't have to travel all this way. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you did, but, wow…"

Marta giggled at Sam; she always got a kick out of his boyish exuberance. She pulled him into another tight embrace and whispered, "Wouldn't have missed this for the world. Wanted to be at your graduation but our flight had gotten delayed and we didn't land until about a half hour ago. Dean promised us he would keep you away until things had been settled here, we wanted to surprise you."

"Well, you sure did," Sam said and he turned to Dean, "Thanks man, I owe you one."  
>Dean smiled at Sam and his obvious state of happiness. "I won't forget you said that," he replied, letting out a hearty chuckle when Sam groaned at the though of Dean not forgetting, "But, right now whatchya say we eat? I'm starving and the way those steaks smell I'm not sure I'm gonna be able to hold out much longer."<p>

This had to be without doubt the best day in Sam's life. He had graduated from High School, while his brother looked on; and, the Williams had come to help him celebrate. He felt a small tug in his heart when he thought about his dad, but he refused to let that get to him. Today was going to be a good day and nothing or no one was going to ruin it for him.

The tiny makeshift family ate and told stories about the past year and all were having a good time. Dean had stepped out on the balcony to get some fresh air when he noticed his father walking towards their apartment from across the parking lot.

"Shit, no, not now," Dean mumbled as he headed back inside. Dean motioned for Caleb to follow him outside. When both men were on the balcony Dean pointed to his dad and Caleb. "I got this," Caleb said to his worried friend, "Your dad won't ruin this night. I promise."

Caleb met John in the parking lot and pulled in the opposite direction. John pulled his arm out of Caleb's grip and stared the younger man down. "What the hell," John hissed his frustration at being treated this way barely contained.

"My question to you," Caleb snapped back, "What the hell John. You didn't come to the ceremony but you'll come to the party? You know he missed you? You do know that?"

"Don't get your panties in a twist, Caleb, I just came to let Dean know that everything is set up at Job's and we will be heading over there tomorrow. I also wanted to check up on Dean, make sure he's taking it easy. We only have the place for the summer and Dean needs to be back, fully, on his feet before we have to vacate."

"Yeah, well we're watching him and he's fine. I'll pass the message on. We'll be happy to help the boys get ready for the move," Caleb crossed his arms over his chest and lowered his voice to a dangerous growl, "But, for now Squirt is going to enjoy his day and no one is going to ruin it for him. Understood?"

"Yeah, I get it. Make sure the boys are ready early in the morning. The landlord gave us until 10:00 to be out. If they're even a minute over we'll be charged for the full month," John turned on his heel and left his friend standing there watching after him in bewildered amusement.

"You sure can be an ass; can't ya John," Caleb mused as he headed back to the party, "Can't ya?"

The party wrapped up not to long after John's visit and Sam was saddened to see everyone leave. Dean pulled Caleb aside and asked about his dad while Sam walked the Williams' to their car.

"He just wanted to make sure you're taking it easy and that you knew to be out by 10:00 tomorrow morning. I told him not to worry about it and that we'll take care of it."

"Thanks, Caleb. No I really mean it. Thanks man. I don't want anything to spoil this for Sam," Dean scratched the back of his neck, "Uh, Caleb, man I hate to ask…"

Caleb clasped the younger man's shoulder and smiled, "Don't worry, Dean. I promise we'll keep your dad out of Sam's hair tomorrow so he can go into Chicago with the Williams'."

"Thanks, man. Uh, hey I'm gonna turn in, feeling a little tired. I'm all packed and set for tomorrow. See ya in the morning."

"No problem. I'll check up on Sam see if he needs anything then Bobby, Jim and I will get this place ready for you two to leave in the morning. We cleared our schedules and we'll be able to stay on for a week or two," Caleb couldn't help but smile at the look of relief that washed over his younger friends face, "You're welcome. You just focus on getting better; we'll take care of your dad."


	24. Chapter 24

For those of you who maybe wondering about the Williams', they are a family that I introduced in another story called Sweet Child of Mine. I hope you enjoy this next update. Thanks to those who are reading and to those who take the time to post comments I really appreciate it.

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><p>The morning came way too soon for Dean. His side felt stiff and sore and a dull ache had begun to form behind his eyes. He slowly sat up and made his way to the bathroom. Dean quickly showered, got dressed and headed into the kitchen. The warm welcoming aroma of freshly brewed coffee along with the tantalizing scent of bacon filled his nostrils and he felt himself perk up.<p>

Sam looked up from his breakfast, when he heard his brother enter the kitchen and smiled at the look of euphoric pleasure plastered on his brother's face. "Mmmm, bacon," Dean happily proclaimed along with, "and pancakes, and eggs and…." Dean's jaw dropped when he realized what this meant. Slowly he turned around and for the first time since he had walked through the living room he saw Mrs. and Mr. Williams sitting on the couch eating.

"Morning, sleepy head," Mr. Williams spoke up, a teasing smile gracing his lips, "Was afraid I was gonna have to wake up so you wouldn't miss out. Sam told me not to worry. He said you'd be up in plenty of time to eat, guess he was right."

Mrs. Williams looked at the young man, her eyes dancing with mirth. "Dean, honey, are you just going to stand there with your mouth hanging open or are you going to eat something? I didn't get up this early, come all the way from across town to watch you gape at me. No," Mrs. Williams said in that matter of fact mother's voice of hers, "No, young man I came here to make sure you all got a good start to the day. It's not very often I get to cook for you boys and I'm sure gonna do it when I can."

"Yes, ma'am," Dean replied as he turned around and headed for the kitchen. It hit him how much he missed being around the Williams' and the way it felt like home. He looked at Sam and couldn't help but notice the way he seemed happier, more at ease. Dean knew that this was the way Sam wanted his life to be and it killed him knowing that this was how it was never gonna be. Sure, there would moments like this, but that was all they would ever be…..moments.

Dean filled a plate high and sat next to his younger sibling; he moaned in pleasure as the homemade cinnamon role, he had bitten into, melted in his mouth. Sam chuckled. "I know right," he playfully asked his older brother.

"Yeah," Dean answered back his eyes closed in ecstasy. Breakfast was over to quickly and soon Dean found himself packed in Caleb's truck heading to Job's house and his dad while Sam climbed into the Williams' car and headed off towards Chicago.

John jumped off the porch when he heard the familiar rumble of Caleb's truck pull into the drive. "Where's Sam," John huffed when he noticed his youngest wasn't with the other two occupants of the vehicle.

Dean lowered his eyes; this wasn't a discussion he wanted to have. He knew without any doubt that his dad wouldn't be to happy that Sam had gone with the Williams'. He knew that John had expected both his boys to be at the house so they could begin finishing the old place up. John had done most of what needed to be done; all that was left was a few minor things here or there. Bobby and Pastor Jim had spent most of the previous night getting the boys' rooms in order while Caleb had stayed back at the apartment to help them clear out the rest of their things.

"I asked where's Sam," John said again his voice gruff.

Dean started at the tone in his father's voice and relaxed when he felt Caleb's hand on his shoulder. Caleb patted Dean's shoulder then addressed John, "The Williams' came to see Sam graduate. For their gift they took Sam into Chicago so he could spend some time at the museums. Marta has known of Sam's desire to go there for a long time so she and Hal arranged for a day. We, I mean Jim, Bobby and I, didn't think it would a problem. We're here and we'll help finish up the house. Sam deserves the day and Dean-o here; well he still needs to take it easy."

"Oh, ok well since you thought it wouldn't be a problem well then I guess it isn't," John sharply answered back. He turned around and headed back inside the old house. He let the door slam close after him and Dean jumped at the sound.

"It'll be alright," Caleb said hoping to calm the younger man's fear.

Dean felt a knot form in his stomach. "I hope so," he said, "I'm just real glad y'all are here. He's really pissed off right now and you know what that means." Dean shuddered at the thought of what it meant and absent mindedly rubbed his check as he remembered the last time his dad had been that pissed off.

The Museum of Science and Industry had put together an exhibit with thousands of artifacts from the Titanic. Sam had read about the exhibit and that was the first place he wanted to go. He felt an eerie sense of voyeurism as he walked through the exhibit looking at the things that had once belonged to those who are now lying in a watery grave. He felt the history come alive and a new appreciation for the terror those poor souls must have felt when they realized their end was near.

Sam shivered as he thought back to the night of the wolf attack. He knew that his decision not to be there had caused the injuries to his brother and to Allison. He knew he should have gone, but the pull to be elsewhere was to strong. He wondered if those who went down with the Titanic cursed their choice to take the journey. He wondered if they would have done the same thing if they had known what would happen. He again questioned if going to Stanford was the right thing to do.

Marta watched Sam as he thought and she could tell that he was thinking of his decision to leave his brother from the expression that he was wearing. She knew that he blamed himself for what happened on their last hunt and that he had been second guessing whether he should go to school or not. She knew he feared being a distraction to Dean if he left and he was afraid of what could happen to his brother because of that distraction.

The life these boys lead broke her heart. She understood the tough choices John had made regarding them, but that didn't mean she approved of them. She knew that John wouldn't approve of Sam's leaving and she knew that he would do everything possible to make him stay. She also knew that Dean, on the other hand, would be happy to see his brother get out. She knew it would be hard on the older boy to let his brother go, but she knew he would do it; Sam just needed to know.

An exasperated, "Max, no," brought both Marta and Sam out of their private musings. They looked at each other, a what now look on their faces, and headed off in the direction that the shout came from. Sam doubled over in a fit of laughter when he saw his friend had stuck his tongue on the piece of the iceberg the museum had on display and it had frozen to the ice. Marta joined him when she heard her son's fiancée add, "Just because the kid triple dog dared you to, doesn't mean you had to."

The Williams' and Sam found themselves being ushered out of the museum once Max's tongue had been removed from the iceberg. Sam's mood had lightened and he allowed himself to think of nothing but the time he was spending with his pseudo family. Before he realized it night had fallen and it was time to head back to the place that they were now calling home.

"Thank you, Hal, Marta, today was a lot of fun," Sam turned to Max who sat beside him his tongue wrapped in a gauze bandage, "And Max thank you, well just thank you. I can't believe you did that. I can't believe she let you."

Elena reached behind Max's head and slapped Sam on the back of his. "Smart ass," she groused, "You try babysitting this one."

"Sam," Marta said, "Have you heard of the Drake Hotel?" She waited for Sam to nod then continued, "Well, Hal, Max, Elena and I have all been wanting to stay there; we just never found the right occasion. We have one more surprise for you we booked a couple rooms for the night. We thought you guys could stay in a room while Elena and I shared the other. We have reservations for dinner at the Cape Cod and then figured we could plan the rest of the evening there; if that sounds good to you."

Sam's face lit up from the smile he gave her, "Boy, does it ever." His face fell, "But…"

"No, Sam, no but's," Hal cut in, "Dean knows about this. We talked about this before we even arrived. He said you would love to stay there. He wants this for you. I know you feel bad he's not getting to join in, but he said to tell you not to. He loves you, Sam. He doesn't begrudge you anything. You've earned this."

"Yeah, ok. Thank you. You know this is too much," Sam shook his head when they all tried to tell him it wasn't, "No, really, you didn't have to do all this. I appreciate it, and will always remember it, but wow."

Marta chuckled, "We love you too, Sam. We love you, too."


	25. Chapter 25

I am sorry for the long delay in posting. I hope this chapter is alright. I hope you enjoy.

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><p>Sam and the Williams' checked into their rooms, freshened up and headed down to dinner. Sam stared in wide eyed wonder at the simple elegance of the hotel's restaurant. He got a giddy feeling over the idea of eating somewhere that didn't have a thin layer of grease covering every surface. For a quick moment his heart constricted as he thought of Dean being stuck back at Job's with their dad; but, then he gripped the note he had found in the duffle Dean had packed for him and he felt the guilt melt away.<p>

The entire menu looked good and finally Sam settled on a bowl of clam chowder, followed by the Alaskan Halibut (grilled) and for dessert Banana Carmel Napoleon. It was a dinner, Sam was certain, crafted in Heaven, and by the looks of it so did everyone else.

After the last bite was taken and the last bit swallowed the small group paid for their meal then headed out to enjoy the Chicago night life. They took in a play and walked the wharf and by the time they were ready to head back to the hotel they were good and tired.

Sam nuzzled into the soft sheets and pulled the fluffy comforter up to his chin. His body rejoiced at the downy softness of the mattress. It felt like he was floating on a cloud and for a moment he wished his brother were there sharing this with him. He couldn't believe how big the differences were between this hotel room and the rooms they usually stayed in. Sam shook his head, yeah money had its advantages and boy was he going to enjoy them while he could.

Dean sat at the old worn out card table, picked up another piece of the greasy pizza they had ordered and sipped the root beer he had been given. Caleb let loose with a whoop at the look Dean shot Jim when he handed the younger man his beverage. Bobby had to hide the smirk that grew on face when a very indignant sounding Dean asked if Jim was serious. John had decided to head out to the nearest bar, since he was so obviously not needed, and sulk.

Dean felt his body relax and the tension melt away. He had known his dad wouldn't be to happy with Sam going to Chicago, but he also knew the kid deserved it. He looked at his uncles, sat around the table, and he felt at home. He knew this was where he belonged; he also knew this wasn't where Sam belonged and he had a feeling that he wouldn't be there much longer.

The evening had passed into night and Dean felt himself growing tired. Bobby and Jim had surprised him with the gift of a new mattress, sheet set and comforter. Dean suspected that while the gift had been bought under the pretense of sprucing up Job's old place, it had in fact been bought as a brief respite and reward for him and all the way he looked out for Sam.

Dean slipped between the clean fresh sheets, pulled the down comforter up to his chin and whispered a quiet night to his brother. He marveled at the firmness and lack of lumps that the bed held and soon he found himself adrift on a sea of pleasant dreams, wishing the morning would never come.

Sam woke with a start. He had temporarily forgotten where he was. He snuggled further into the warm soft bed and let himself drift again. When it finally came time to get up and face the day it was one of the hardest things he ever had to do. He didn't want to leave the warmth comfort that the bed offered.

After everyone had gotten ready, the car had been packed and they had checked out; the small group stopped off at the Lavazza Café for breakfast before they bid Chicago adieu.

John woke with a pounding headache. He wasn't sure how much he had had to drink the night before and he couldn't remember the last time he had been hung over but he was sure he wouldn't forget this time anytime soon. His eyes wandered around the room until they feel on the digital clock and read the time. "Son of a," John mumbled as he realized that he had slept half the day away.

John slowly sat up, carefully put his feet on the floor and tentatively stood up. He wobbled for a bit and when he managed to get the room to stop spinning he made his way to the bathroom. He stripped down and climbed into the shower allowing the hot water to wash away some of the haze left over from his last nights activities.

After he had showered, shaved and gotten dressed John felt much more human and less like something the cat had drug in. He headed to the kitchen in search of coffee and a little something to eat and found himself running into Sam. John felt his ire rise as he thought about the previous day and it took everything in him not to reach out, grab his ungrateful son and slam him into the nearest wall.

"Sam," John said his voice cold and distant. Not waiting for Sam to reply John continued to the kitchen. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat at the card table that had been turned into a makeshift kitchen table. John popped a couple aspirin out of the first aid kit and downed them with his coffee. He rested his arms on the table and his head upon his arms. He listened to the laughter as it filtered in from the other room and heard Sam telling his brother about the day he spent in Chicago.

'I'm losing him', John thought to himself, 'Listen to him in there. His voice is so full of life and I can tell that the outside is where he wants to be. I just wish I could make him see that what he wants isn't what he needs. It's too dangerous out there for him. He doesn't know, doesn't really know, what's out there waiting for him. Hell, I don't even really know; but, what I've uncovered scares the crap outta me. I can't. I won't lose him. He's just going to have to accept that he can't leave; at least not until the threat has been taken care of…..if ever. I won't lose him, not after Mary sacrificed herself to save him.'

At the thought of his wife John felt tears form at the corners of his eyes. He angrily swiped at them and lifted his head when he heard soft footsteps in the kitchen's entrance. "Dad," he heard his eldest say concern lacing his voice, turning the statement into a question.

"I'm good Dean," John answered back, "Guess I knocked one to many back last night. I'm going to make a run into town. You need anything?"

"Nah, I'm good. Hey dad," Dean started up then hesitated his green eyes shining with the same emotion his dad was feeling, "I miss her too."

His son's simple statement shocked John, took the breath from his lungs. Was it that evident? Was he that easy to read? After John had found his breath he answered, "I know." He picked his truck keys off of the counter, pulled his jacket on and headed out the back door.

Dean stood in the kitchen until he couldn't hear his dad's truck anymore and after he was certain he had his emotions under control he went back out to the living room and rejoined the others.


	26. Chapter 26

I don't always get back to those who have left a review and I apologize for that; I'll work on getting better at that. I do appreciate you all taking the time out to read this story and to those who leave a review, an extra special thank-you.

Thank you for sticking with this and I hope you still enjoy.

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><p>John had found himself growing restless. He was amazed at how well his oldest had been recovering and he could feel Dean growing restless as well. John sighed; he knew it was still too early for Dean to be hunting, yet alone being stuck in a car for hours on end, and he also knew that if he broached the subject with his sons Dean would be gung ho and up to leaving but, Sam….. well Sam was another story.<p>

John pulled his truck over and was surprised to find himself at the same spot he had parked that night he almost lost his boy. The feelings from that night over took him and he broke down in tears. The anger he had felt towards Sam came flooding to the surface and he let out a frustrated growl.

Why couldn't his youngest accept who and what they were? It was Sam's constant need to grind against the grain that caused the majority of friction in their family. Sam was an ungrateful brat who took for granted that his older brother would always be there for him and that sense of entitlement constantly put Dean into situations where he was either butting heads with John or in the hospital getting treated for some injury that could have been prevented if he hadn't been distracted by worrying about Sam.

John's cell phone rang and he answered it with a sharp hello. "John," a familiar voice asked.

John closed his eyes and felt a headache building behind them. "Jake," he replied, "What can I do for you?"

"John, I caught wind of a potential hunt out your way and was wondering if you're interested. I'd take it myself but I have my hands full at the moment. I heard about Dean and man I'm sorry about that, but I also know that Caleb, Jim and Bobby are with you. This is gonna be a two man job. I thought maybe you could get one of them to help. I'd call someone else, but you're the closest," Jake paused when he heard John sigh and he quickly started back up before John could interrupt, "Look man, I understand that you have your hands full as well, but this thing is killing kids and someone needs to do something like yesterday. Whatchya say?"

John left Jake hanging for a few minutes as he thought out his options. He came to the conclusion that it might be a good thing for him to take the hunt and to see if one of the others could help. It might do him and Sam some good to spend some time away from each other, allow each other some cooling off time. With his mind made up he agreed to take the hunt, but only if one of the others would help.

"Thanks, John. Like I said I would have taken it but this witch is proving to be a real bitch to kill."

"Don't thank me yet," John replied, "If one of the others won't help you'll have to find someone else. I won't be able to go if two men are needed and count on Dean staying put. He'd fine a way to get to me to help."

"Well, that's just great dad. Sure run off and leave us here. If you haven't noticed one of your kids is still recovering and you never know when he might need you," Sam huffed at John. He stood in the doorway to his father's bedroom with his arms crossed over his chest, wearing his patented bitch face.

"I'm fine, Sammy. I don't need dad to stay here and baby sit me," Dean said from were he was sitting. He was hoping to calm his brother before he said something he'd latter regret.

"Yeah, I know you're fine, now, Dean," Sam said turning towards his brother, "but, you never know what could happen. You have a way of pushing yourself and without someone here to make sure you take it easy, well you could end up hurting yourself again."

"Well, Sam," John said as he stepped up to his youngest, "that's where you come in. I'm well aware of the condition Dean is in and I'm also well aware of the circumstances that lead up to him being in this position. I'm hoping that I can count on you to look out for your brother for once. You know put his needs before yours. Do you think you could that Sam? Do you?"

Sam turned green around the gills and looked as if his dad had punched him right in the stomach. John sighed, "Sam I wouldn't go if it weren't for the fact that kids are being killed. I would find another hunter to take this on if I really thought Dean needed me. Jim's headed back to his parish and Bobby is headed back to his junkyard, if Caleb wouldn't have been able to go I would have turned this down. No matter what you may think of me and no matter how much I might have earned it…I do love you boys. You need to know that. But, you also need to understand that I can't sit back and let innocent people, especially kids, die when I can do something about it."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, fine whatever," he grumbled before he headed out the front door, letting it slam behind him.

Dean flinched at the loud bang and the look on his dad's face. John looked to his oldest and saw the apprehension that surrounded him. 'I did that,' he thought, 'I put that fear into him. Man, I really am some kind of bastard.'

John moved over to stand beside his son and he gently placed a hand on his shoulder. When Dean looked up and John knew he had his full attention he softly said, "Dean, I can stay if you need me to. I'm sure we can get another hunter here to take this one on. I don't want to leave you in a bad spot. You say the word and I'll stay. Alright, kiddo?"

Not sure if his dad was testing him or not Dean shook his, "Nah, dad, I'm good. You're right kids are dying and we can't wait for someone else. I just wish I could go with you."

"I know, son," John said a slight pang in his chest telling him his boys were growing up. He had missed so much, lost so much; but there wasn't a thing he could about it. This was the hand they were dealt and he would do everything in his power to make sure it was a winning hand.

After their dad had left Sam set about the house sulking and complaining about everything and anything he could think of. He lamented about how unfair their life was and how wrong it was of John to assume that they would stay with hunting once they were old enough to leave.

"Well I got a surprise for him," Sam let slip before he realized what he was saying, "I won't be around much longer. I'm eighteen he can't make me stay. I have dreams and things I want to do. I won't let him and his need for revenge keep me from them."

"Sam," Dean asked, "Whatchya mean when you said you got a surprise for him?" Dean's heart had fallen to his feet and he found it hard to swallow around the lump in throat. 'He's leaving. I've been feeling him pulling away. He's planning on leaving. Dammit, Sammy, don't you know what that will do to dad. What it'll do to me? Don't you even care?'

Sam stopped his tirade and swore under his breath. Damn, he hadn't planned on saying anything, well at least not now. He needed to stay with them until his room at Stanford became available. He was waiting to tell them after he had a place to go. "Nothing," he stammered out, "I didn't mean anything by it. Look I'm just pissed that's all. It's just me blowing off steam. How about we head into town? Maybe get some dinner at the diner? That waitress you like so much has been asking about you."

Dean took in his brothers dimpled smile and thought, 'Yeah, right nice try but I know you. You're up to something and I'll find out what it is.' To Sam he gave one of own million watt smiles and answered, "That sounds like a plan, Sammy. Sounds like a plan."


	27. Chapter 27

Ok, well this is it. For real this time. The story is reaching it's end. Maybe just one more update after this. This is where I tried to tackle the argument that occurred the night Sam left. It's a bit long but I couldn't find a place to cut it off. Please, if you read leave a comment, whether good or bad as I am curious to hear what you think. Thank you.

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><p>The rest of the summer became routine for the family. John and Sam would start to get on each others nerves and Dean would find himself being pulled in the middle and asked to choose sides. Even though Dean had recovered from his injuries the constant fighting had started taking its toll on him emotionally.<p>

He became depressed and withdrawn. He started to have trouble eating and sleeping. He would sit up at night worrying that his gut feeling about Sam leaving was right and he worried that his dad would leave on a hunt, be distracted by his last argument with Sam and wind up seriously injured or dead. Neither of those options sat well with him.

For all the bravado Dean displayed he was still a lost little boy who fought not only the world, but his family to keep them together. He hated the weakness in him that needed his family, but ever since the night he lost his mother his family was the one thing that kept him rooted.

To their credit Sam and John had noticed how their fighting affected the middle member of their family and they both tried to give a little. John started taking on more hunts to provide some space between he and Sam; and Sam tried to understand that their dad wasn't just abandoning them but was in fact providing some much needed breathing space.

Sam spent his days sparring with his brother to help him get back in shape and re-hone his skills. He would go with Dean out to the practice range and enjoy betting his brother on who could shoot the most targets. Sam lost more than a few of those bets and found himself being placed on laundry and dish duty for the remaining part of the summer.

On the rare occasion that Sam won a shoot out Dean looked the other way while his younger brother went into to town or hung out at the beach with Allison and their friends. It was during those times that Sam would feel his desire to get out of hunting, to be normal, grow and he would find himself dreaming of that day.

It was a late August day when the letter arrived from Stanford. Sam could barely contain his excitement. His dorm room was available as well as his student study job. Sure he had gotten a full scholarship but that only paid for school and his room. He had accepted a job at the library to help pay for the necessities.

John had gone on another hunt and he was expected home later that night. Sam had made arrangements with Dean to go to the beach and spend some time with Allison. The summer had wound down and Dean was well enough to get back into hunting, so he knew that they would be packing up and leaving soon. Sam decided that he was going to tell Allison his good news and then break it to John and Dean the next day.

The day couldn't have been more perfect. The sun warmed the beach and the water to just the right temperature. The picnic lunch they had picked up from the local market consisted of chicken salad sandwiches, carrot sticks, ice tea and for dessert chocolate chip cookies. Everything was going according to plan.

Sam knew that Allison had decided to take a year off before going to college. He had hoped that once that year was up she would join him at Stanford. He had planned this day to show her what would be waiting for her if she chose to follow him out.

When the time came Sam brought up the letter he had gotten and asked her if she had been thinking about going there the following year. Allison looked at Sam and the look she gave him told him he wasn't going to like what she had to say.

"Sam," she said her voice soft and low, "I'm sorry but I've decided to go to U of M next year. I've had a real good time with you and I'm grateful for you saving my life but I have to be honest. There's someone else. I've always had this crush on Joshua; he's a year older, and well when he came home for a visit a month ago we connected. I didn't say anything right away because I wasn't sure what would happen but we fell in love. He's going to be a junior at U of M next year and I decided I would go there. I'm sorry Sam, I didn't plan on this. I hope you can understand."

Sam felt as if the world had just sucker punched him. He couldn't believe that she had kept this from him. She hoped he could understand. Ha, not very likely. He felt his face growing warm and he turned away from her. He waved her off when she placed a hand on his arm.

Without looking at her he replied, "I have to be honest. Do I understand? No, I don't. I don't get how you could have kept this from me. I bet it was a real funny joke to you. Huh, string the poor loser along? He's leaving soon anyway, so what would it hurt? Is that what this was to you, a joke?"

He turned to her his hazel eyes burning with the hurt he was feeling. "But it's alright. We can still be friends. No, like seriously that would be so much fun," he said his voice conveying the mixture of hurt and anger he was feeling. He jumped up, grabbed his towel and headed off towards his brothers car.

He heard Allison call out for him but he didn't turn around. If he had he would have noticed the man, with the yellow eyes, who stepped up to Allison and told her she did well. He would have noticed Allison's eyes slip to black and the satisfied smirk she gave the man.

Sam drove home in a daze. He couldn't have told you how he had made it home. The only thing he could have expressed the ache that he felt deep in the pit of his stomach. He didn't notice his dad's truck sitting in the drive or the way the sky had turned to a pale purple as night moved in.

He sat in the car trying to get himself under control before he went in and faced his brother. His dreams had just been shattered, his heart ripped from his chest and he knew that it wouldn't take much to send him over the edge.

When he felt he had himself collected he headed into the house. He started to go to his room hoping to avoid his brother when he ran into his dad. Sam didn't know what came over him and before he could stop himself he pushed his dad back out of his way.

John stumbled backwards and placed his hand on the wall to keep from falling. His temper already short from the soreness he was feeling he let lose with a string of very colorful words and a harsh push of his own.

Dean having heard the commotion and flurry of words came from the kitchen to see what was going on. He stopped short when he saw his dad and brother standing nose to nose, fists clenched and bodies shaking. "Crap," he let out and he took another tentative step into the room.

The other two men were so wrapped up in what they were doing that they didn't even notice they were no longer alone. John stood his eyes burning with something that Sam hadn't seen before and for a moment he thought of backing down….for a moment. Sam had been pushed to the breaking point and he wasn't going to pull himself back. It was time he stood up for himself and told his dad how things were going to be, instead of the other way around.

John stood staring at his youngest a new and deep resentment having settled deep into his being. He held a crumbled piece of paper in his hand and this time he knew he was right. Sam was planning on leaving and John swore he'd see hell rise before he let his son go. He saw the hesitation flit in Sam's eyes and he took that moment to strike.

Lifting the paper up so Sam could see what he was holding John addressed his youngest. "Samuel, what do you have to say about yourself," John inquired his voice hard, dangerous. "Well," he asked his voice having raised an octave but still hard and dangerous.

"Where'd you get that," Sam answered back as he tried to snatch it from his dad's hands. "You've been sneaking around in my things. Guess I shouldn't be all that surprised, but then again I was hoping for some semblance of privacy; should have known that's not possible when you grow up with Hitler as your father."

John grabbed the front of Sam's shirt and tossed him into the wall. Sam's head bounced off the wall with a sickening crack leaving a dent in the plaster. "That's not an answer, Sam," John growled, "I asked what's this about. You've got anything to say for yourself, huh? How long have you been planning this and did your brother know about it?"

Dean's eyes grew bigger and he felt his stomach knot in fear. What was dad talking about? What had Sammy been planning? And, please don't let dad think I knew anything about it.

Sam lifted his arms up and managed to pry himself free from John. His face that usually radiated kindness had turned into a stony mask of dignified rage. "I don't have to explain myself to you. You read the letter. You know what it says. I got into Stanford. I was hoping to talk to you Dean about it tomorrow but since you don't have the decency to respect my privacy I guess I'll have to talk to you know. And if you didn't catch that part about talking to Dean, well let me make clear," Sam paused then continued on emphasizing each word, "He. Didn't. Know. About. This."

"You can't do this. You can't leave. You know what's out there. You're a hunter Sam, this is your life. Time you grew up and accepted it." John had crossed his arms over his chest out of fear. He feared that if he hadn't he would've knocked Sam into the next week.

"I can't. Oh, I can't, can I," Sam bellowed, "Just who the hell do you think you are? You can't make me stay with you. I'm eighteen dad. I can leave if I want to and believe me I want to. I'm tired of being moved around from town to town. I'm tired of worrying about Dean not coming home from some stupid hunt and most of all I'm tired watching you slowly dying inside because of what happened to mom and your sick need for revenge.

Geez, dad you had two sons to live for and we weren't enough. We were never enough. You choose to exist, not live. You choose to drag your two young sons around with you instead of letting us go. You couldn't let your ego suffer the loss of not being able to raise your boys and save your wife. So, instead of you suffering you forced us to.

Dad, I'm sorry about what happened to mom. But, what happened doesn't make this right. This is your fight. Your war. If Dean wants to follow you like some mindless soldier, then that's his right. But, I don't want to and I'm not going to. I have hopes and dreams and if mom were here she'd be ashamed of you for trying to keep me from them."

Dean took in a sharp breath as he noticed his fathers fall under the weight of his brother's words. He took another step forward. Dean reached out his hand to his brother. "Sam please," he said his voice pleading, "Please think about what you're saying."

Sam turned to his brother and the next words he spoke stabbed him like a thousand knives, "Should have known daddy's perfect soldier would take his side," Sam shook his head, "It never ceases to amaze me how no matter much you swear to protect me, the one thing you can't/won't protect me from his dad. You're just like him you know. Can't say I blame you, it's all you've known. But, still it's kind of pathetic in a way."

"Sam," John spoke up his tone of voice clearly one of warning.

"What, dad, what? You going to hit me? Well go ahead. Do your worse. But you need to know whatever you do I'm leaving. I've got a full ride and I'm not passing that up. I worked for this and I deserve it."

Sam pushed away from his dad and headed to his room. John dropped his arms and stood staring at his youngest in shock. After he had collected himself he went into the kitchen grabbed his bottle of whiskey, went to the living and sat on the couch.

Dean followed Sam into the bedroom. "Please, Sammy can't we talk about this? Come on man, you can't really want this," Dean said.

Sam refused to look at his brother. He knew if he did he'd lose some of his resolve. He had looked up to Dean and he was grateful to his brother for giving him the life he had. Sam knew that it was really Dean who had raised him and that it was really Dean who cared for him. His heart clenched and he shook his head. 'No, Sam,' he thought, 'Don't. You're going and that's all there is to it.'

"Yes, Dean," Sam replied a hint of exasperation in his voice, "I want this. And, no we can't talk about it. You know you could come with me. You could place off campus, get a job and I could stay with you on the weekends." Sam looked into his brothers eyes. "But, you won't. You won't leave him. Dean, I swear one day that man will get you killed. Come with me and get out while you can."

Tears had built in his eyes and they could be heard in voice when answered, "I can't Sammy. He needs me, us. I can't do that to him."

"Yeah, well don't say I didn't offer," Sam replied his voice tinged with bitterness. He put the last of belongings into his duffel, took on last look around the room and stalked past his brother without even giving him a glance.

Sam had made it to the door and had put his hand on the knob when he's father icy cold voice reached his ears. "You walk out that door, Samuel, don't you ever come back. You hear me? You turn your back on this family and leave you're as good as dead to me. I don't to ever see or hear from you again."

"Don't worry sir. You won't. I promise." And with those words Sam turned the knob, walked out the door and let it slam close behind him.


	28. Chapter 28

So here we are at the end. I'm trying something I've never done before, an epilogue. I hope that those who have read enjoyed the ride and the bit A/Uness this story held. Did I really think John was this abusive, maybe; I'm just not sure. There was just something in the way Dean looked and his tone of voice when they talked about Sammy and his little trip to Arizona that makes me wonder.

Anyway, thank you to those who have read and especially to those who took the time to post comments. And now onto the ending.

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><p>Epilogue:<p>

Sam stood watching as his father's body burnt on the funeral pyre. He thought back over the last six years and he felt something inside him crack. He had spent the first four of them so wrapped up in living his own life and pain that he had held on to the promise of never seeing or speaking to his father ever again, even after he had met Jess.

The part of him that had cracked at the thought of his father had now shattered at the thought of his Jess. His mind went back to one of the last things that his dad had said to him, 'You can't leave. You know what's out there.'

'But, I really didn't know what was out there,' Sam thought as he felt the old resentment rise a little, 'maybe, if you had told me what you knew about the yellow eyed demon I wouldn't have allowed myself to get so close to someone and Jess would still be alive. Maybe, I would have fought you a little less and understood you a little more. It wouldn't have kept me from going. I wanted normal and I was going to get. This doesn't make me any less of a man or even selfish, it just makes me who I am. I don't know dad, but maybe, just maybe, we wouldn't have lost all those years and each other.'

Sam took a shuddering breath and whispered out, "But, Les Jeux Sont Faits. The Game is Played and moves have been made. What's done is done and I can't change any of that. All I can do now is move forward. Take the lessons I have learned and finish this once and for all. I'm sorry for those wasted years, dad, I wish we could get them back; but, I know we can't.

For what it's worth I never truly hated you, even though at times I might have said I did and acted like I did. Despite everything we went through I know you never hated me either. I know that you loved me. We were just so much alike that we both couldn't see past our own noses. You were to busy trying to protect me, that you couldn't see you were pushing me away. And, I was so busy trying to be independent that I couldn't see how much it hurt you. But, don't worry dad, I see it now and I promise that I will finish what you started."

Sam felt his brother step up beside him and he brushed the tears from his cheeks. They watched his father's body burn and when the embers had finally cooled they walked back to the car in silence.

Sam settled into the passenger seat and took a look at his brother. The first lesson he was going to accept was that no matter what happened in his life he wasn't going to ever let as much time pass between him and those he cared about.


End file.
